


Island Devils

by cutiepiejane



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, DFAB reader, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Manga Spoilers, Multi, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Torture, lets just put it that way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiepiejane/pseuds/cutiepiejane
Summary: All you knew was to run. No name, no idea where or who you were. Just the primal need to survive and get as far away from the grotesque, humanoid beasts that roamed these unfamiliar lands as possible. When you reach high walls you felt hopeful. When you heard human voices you felt relieved. When guns were pointed, accusations were thrown and deadly ultimatums were given, you felt you might have been better starving in the woods.(Or, less eloquently: A fic in which Reader wakes up outside the walls with amnesia, is forced into the survey corps and rips everyone a new one. Eventual manga/anime spoilers. Story takes place after the 57th expedition, follows canon events but doesn't follow the original timeline.)**on hiatus, currently rewriting**





	1. Safe among the dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU READ
> 
> This fic is fluffy and funny and has romance in it but it gets very dark at times!! It will have heavy manga spoilers, canon and noncanon character death and some downright egregious shit! This first chapter will give you a small dose of that, but it gets way worse and I don't want anyone invested in a fic that turned into something they weren't expecting. so,, expect it.
> 
> ok! all good, hope you enjoy!!

The soft sound of bare feet hitting the dry earth and your heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent forest. It’s all you can hear, all you want to hear. Even the sound of a bird chirping off in the far distance startles you, your head whipping to the side to investigate. You don't let it slow your pace, though. You go as fast as your tired feet will carry you, stumbling occasionally when the muscles of your legs further protest the cruel strain. Ignoring their objections, though at your own risk, you push on.

 

You aren't sure where you are running or what you are running towards, but it feels right. Well, so long as it's the opposite direction of that _thing,_  you can't argue.

 

This has to be some kind of dream, you think. That was the only explanation, some awful nightmare. Maybe you had dozed off while collecting firewood, or while on a simple walk through the woods. Waking up in a forest you had never been in before, nestled in a soft patch of grass, it was peaceful. As peaceful as you’d remembered anything ever being. Not that that meant much, seeing as you couldn’t remember  _anything_.

 

You don’t want to think too hard about that, though. There were more pressing matters at the moment. Life threatening ones, by your estimations.

 

When you opened your eyes and stirred from your sleep you weren’t sure what to make of your surroundings. Trees that seemed to extend forever upwards shading your eyes from the mid afternoon sun, lush green grass spread underneath you and a bright blue sky. You were so calm, _so oblivious_. You trailed your eyes to the skyline lazily, and your ignorant bliss was shattered.

 

Off maybe 20 meters and hidden slightly behind a tree was something you had no name for. Frozen in fear all you could do was stare wide eyed at the creature. It was some morbid, distorted interpretation of a human being, stretched tall with an inflated stomach and scrawny arms. It watched you with huge, beady eyes, disgustingly wide smile beginning to drip with saliva.

 

You blinked hard in an attempt to clear your eyes of the hallucination, but it didn’t go away. It was still right there. Stock still, _waiting._  You hoisted yourself up in an instant, legs feeling like jelly, and ran. Damned if you let that thing make a start at you while you were still lying on your back.

 _And naked,_ might you add. Though it was the least of your worries right now. You knew no modesty as your heels kicked up soft tuffs of dirt in your wake, the threat of tears pricking the edges of your eyes. You didn’t bother turning around to see if it had followed, praying to whichever god that would listen that it hadn't.

 

 

It had been hours since you started on your blind journey, the setting sun turning the sky deep shades of orange and pink and you had hardly made any progress in escaping the forest. A small part of you knew the dangers of an unfamiliar forest; wild boars, wolves, bears. And now that thing. You knew you should want to escape it, but who was to say you'd be any safer outside than in. The deep pull on your stomach told you you were going the right way, but you seemed to be burying yourself further and further.

 

Deep in your thoughts and insecurities about your situation, you don't notice an upturned root before it catches on your foot, painfully ripping it right from under you. The speed you were going launches you forward a good few feet, and in your daze you barely registered your legs being turned towards the sky, watching almost in slow motion your world go upside down. It isn't until your back hits the ground and the wind is knocked from your lungs that your mind registers what had happened. You roll and skid on the painfully hard ground, twigs and stones digging into your flesh before finally colliding with something that stops your trajectory.

 

It was surprisingly soft, whatever it was, and you thanked the gods that you somehow managed to land on your back rather than your neck. You stay there with your cheek pressed to the earth until the air returns to your lungs, clutching at your chest and finally flexing each of your stiff limbs. When everything checks out as still working, nothing being too painful to stop you from continuing your escape, you look down at your naked body. You certainly aren't without injury, both of your knees covered in dirt and weeping blood from a few cuts trailing up your thigh. Plenty of angry red splotches began to bloom all over once soft and unmarred skin. Weakly you roll to your side to push yourself off the ground. But a painfully sharp reminder hits you.

 

That this is a sick, twisted nightmare.

 

It's so close your eyes have trouble focusing on it, and when they do you can only gape. A woman--no, a _girl’s_ bloodied and disfigured face lay only an inch from your own. Glassy and deflated eyes staring straight ahead of her and right through you. Her skin drained of color, complexion sickly and grey.

 

A corpse.

 

_A corpse broke your fall._

 

You launch to your feet, stumbling and landing right back on your ass before kicking and scrambling away. Your eyes dart all over her body, from the strawberry blonde hair that is matted and caked with blood, to the large gash on the side of her skull to her mangled body that was, thankfully, mostly hidden underneath the protection of a dark green cloak.

 

You struggle to drag your gaze away from her, covering your mouth with your hand to hold back the sob bubbling in the back of your throat. It releases when you see what else lie around you. So lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize you were running head first into the remnants of what looked like a battlefield. You counted three corpses so far, all wearing the same green cloak and white pants. _A uniform?_   Blood stains tree bark and paints the scene in gore. Every body is mutilated and crushed to some degree, bones sticking out of limbs and blood washing them all in the rusty brown. One is even torn in half...

 

You heave, tears and sweat falling from your face as your body jerks and convulses with each gag. There is nothing in your system to come up, but that didn’t stop your body from trying. By the time you stop your stomach muscles are screaming and your face and chest are a bright red. A terrifying thought running through your head.

 

 _Is this what that beast can do?_  

 

It had to be what got them, you couldn’t imagine their bodies being so disfigured by anything else. Looking around frantically, there are no signs of any giants nearby, but you know if you want to avoid the same fate then you can't afford to stop. It was getting darker by the minute and the last thing you need is to be blinded in the forest. You come to your feet, wobble on your legs and are about to start running again when a thought comes to mind. You want to shove it out, face twisting with disgust, but it keeps your feet planted in the dirt. You know you have no other way around it. You can't run out here barefoot forever. Your feet are already beginning to bleed, the skin on your heel busted and covered in dirt. You can't keep going on without clothes, either. Least the elements kill you before you get pawed by a humongous hand. Your eyes trail back to the girl. You won't strip her naked, but you need to do something about your situation. She looks about the same size as you, maybe even around the same age. Whatever age that might be.

 

 

A shiver curls up your spine. 

 

Breathing through your mouth as you roll her over, her rag-doll limbs put up little fight as you gently position her on her back, but the metal boxes at her hips poise a problem.

 

You stare at them curiously, trying to identify what they could be. Attached to the boxes is a wire that leads to some sort of handle. Picking it up you turn it around in your hand. Your fingers slip comfortably into what you assumed was the correct way to hold it, brushing the dirt off of the metal and leather. With your index finger, you experimentally press down on one of the triggers, pointing it away from you in case it was possibly a gun of some sort.

 

You scream so loud a flock of birds haunting a nearby tree take off in flight. Or maybe it was the thing that _shot out at you_ , whizzing just past your cheek that did it. Jumping back, a thin, taut line just inches from your face connects a tree to the girl in the uniform, her body jostling slightly when it shot out of the two smaller boxes on her waist.

 

Dropping the item in your hand as though it burned to the touch, you decide messing with it any further is a bad idea. You gingerly approached the girl's body again and peel back the green cloak covering her form. Underneath is a tan jacket that comes mid waist, and on the left breast pocket is an embroidered patch. A white and blue wing crossed over each other to form some sort of embalm. Her dirtied and stained white button up, which you imagined was clean and well pressed at one point, has a few tears in it, but was wearable. White pants in the same condition cling to her legs with dried blood, knee high brown boots on her feet. You aren't sure if they’ll fit you, but it's worth a try. Anything is better than your current situation.

 

By the time you undress and finish wrapping her body snugly in the green cloak, night has almost fallen. Despite this, you feel almost protected. The clothes on your back served as a barrier against the elements and calming your nerves, even if they stink of the early stages of decomposition, but more importantly you haven’t seen a giant since stumbling upon the bodies. Perhaps whatever had gotten them had moved on. Maybe the beasts don't attack unless provoked, or there aren't as many as you thought. Maybe you are safe. 

 

 _Safe among the dead,_  you think bitterly. _How_ _comforting._

 

You survey the area once more, not wanting to trust your feeling of security so blindly. When your eyes catch something swaying slightly in the sky, you don't shriek or startle and run, but step a little closer. Higher up and dangling from a tree is a fourth body. You would have turned your head and not stared the poor soul if it wasn't for what he was dangling by.

The cords around his waist are twisted around a thick branch, suspending his body in the air. You turn to the wires that shot out at you earlier, still embedded into the tree off to the side. You realize with sudden clarity that they must use these things to climb, to possibly get out of reach from the giants.

 

And if you could get to where they couldn’t reach you, then you’d be safe. For a time, at least. It's still a better idea than continuing to blindly search for others on your feet. Your legs were threatening to give out from under you any second now.

 

All the same, if they were able to climb why didn’t they? Why had they have been caught in the line of fire if they could have easily avoided it? You could be wrong, but...

No, you had to at least try. The trees are the only real option right now, and there is no way you'd be able to get up one by yourself. You stare at the belts that sat in a pile next to the girl’s body. They were hell to remove considering the equipment they were attached to, and it was only after you had gotten them off that you realized how to detach said metal boxes. If you had the foresight to know you’d be needing them you would have paid more attention to how the leather straps laid on the girl's body, but there's no time for lamenting right now.

 

With the moon your only source of illumination, you struggled long and hard, considered giving up multiple times, were certain you had gotten yourself trapped in the straps and wrestled with them with your limbs bent at awkward, painful angles, but eventually your leg slipped into the foot harness and all your limbs were free for full motion. You run your thumb across your shoulder strap to lay it flat and sigh deeply. The tightness of the straps left you a little breathless and the weight of the gear around your hips makes you wobble on your feet, but everything is in order. Your muscles scream and your body begs for rest, but you're too determined to stop now. You’ll make it up one of the big ass trees if it's the last thing you do.

 

A very probable outcome.

 

You're nervous to pull the triggers again, having witnessed a little too closely the speed at which the cables shoot out, but with a yelp that would have been embarrassing if your audience weren't a bunch of dead bodies, you successfully bury the anchor into a tree. Smiling wide, you look down at the two handles laying flat against your palms.

 

"It's a start," you said to yourself. The first words you've spoken aloud yet, your voice feeling almost out of place in the quiet woods.

 

It takes a lot of being flung about and the sprouting of a plethora of fresh bruises, but by the time the sun has started to ascend above the horizon you're half way up the trunk of a tree.

Sweat drips down your face and your arms shake the entire time, but you grasp onto the large branch and pull yourself onto it. When your back finally hits the rough bark you don't try to suppress the tears that trail down your cheeks. There's no way one of those things could get to you this far up without you noticing. It isn't foolproof, but it's good enough for your tired mind to dismiss.

 

You fall asleep as soon as your eyes flutter shut.

 

\--

 

You practice with the gear as much as you can while steering clear of the giants that would show up every now and again. You aren't sure how many there are, but of the handful you saw the same beast rarely showed up twice. You'd hide in the trees for what seemed like hours when a few found interest in you and stretched their long, gangling fingers in your direction, and once you were more comfortable with the gear you'd simply swing over them.

 

It was getting easier to maneuver between the trees, though you refused to use the gas to propel yourself unless absolutely necessary. You had gotten well acquainted with the taste of tree bark while trying to make use of that feature, scaring yourself away from touching it and relying solely on the momentum of your body weight to carry you through the trees. While waiting out a couple of beasts who seemed content just sitting at the bottom of the tree you were in until the sun went down, your realized a few things: giants didn’t know how to climb, and they didn’t seem to move at night. While you weren’t willing to put the second theory up to a test, you were able to propel past them easily when night fell, not so much as a swat to your feet coming from them.

 

You still blindly follow the feeling in your gut, and by the gods it seemed that was keeping you alive. You came across a river on your way, frozen in disbelief when you heard the sound of moving water. You ran as fast as you could and fell to your knees at the bank, shoving your entire head under the water and gulping down as much as you could take in. You didn’t even register how thirsty you were until that moment, not stopping until your stomach protested and it hurt to swallow more. You had no way of hunting out here, no way of knowing what plants were or weren’t poisonous, and if it weren’t for the river you found you’d surely be dead from dehydration. There wasn’t anything you could use to transport it so you had to get your fill while you were there. The sun was still high in the sky, warning you not to linger on the ground any longer than you needed to, so you fell asleep in one of the nearby trees and gave yourself the day to rest until nightfall, occasionally coming down to drink from the stream some more and even detaching the gear from your belts and jumping in when the sky turned purple, washing the sweat and grime off your body and clothes as best you could. 

 

While you truly didn't know if leaving the forest was your best option, everything in you was shouting that it was. And you weren't disappointed. At the edge of the forest there was a run down cottage that looked like it had been deserted for years, roof caved in and windows so dusty you couldn't see inside. The dilapidated state didn’t stop you from knocking on the door and when,  _surprise,_ no answer came to answer, using your foot to break through the loose lock. There wasn’t anything helpful inside, just a bunch of old dishes and a few rat nests, but none of that bothered you much. It was a sign. You were getting close to civilization. 

 

Outside of the forest were flat planes of land, and while your gut begged you to keep going your head was telling you to wait. You wouldn’t be able to hide from the giants out there, none of the trees tall enough to store you away from them an too sparsely set apart to be of much use swinging from with the gear.

 

You'd be back to where you started once you stepped out there. On foot with no real goal or understanding of the area. You could run while it was dark, but if you didn't find any large trees or people by then.. 

You stayed one more day at the edge of the forest, just long enough to build your stamina and prepare yourself mentally for the journey. Chewing on your nails and the inside of your cheek, you stare nervously out towards the planes. You'd need to move fast and listen to the pull in your gut at all costs. It hadn't steered you wrong this far, and you prayed it would remain consistent.

 

As soon as the sun began to set, you jump down from the tree you were haunting and _ran,_ no looking back and no second guessing. 

 

You come across approximately four or five of the monsters on your way, none of them so much as twitching a muscle as you sprint past without a second glance. Your theory of them falling into a catatonic state seemed to go proven and you thank every star in the sky for that. The gear around your hips shuffles and clacks against itself while you move, but you reasoned it's value to be too great to ditch now. If you're lucky enough to find another forest you won't make it very long without a means to climb. 

 

A few hours into your trip, chest heaving and muscles screaming, you find yourself squinting at the horizon. Something flat and long lay ahead, and when you were about to dismiss it as another hill something stuck out to you. It's too perfectly flat to be anything organic, that much you can tell, running too great a distance on either side to be anything other than man made. As you approach just over a mile of it you realize with a growing smile what it is.

A wall.

Huge and prominent even from where you stood. You pick up speed despite how tired you are, spurred on by the hope filling your blood. There's no mistaking it now. There are other people. _And they have defenses_. 

 

\--

 

You come to a slow jog, covering your mouth and nose with the back of your hand.  _Gods, the stench._ It's nearly unbearable, having filled your nose long before you came in contact with the source.

You've walked out onto another graveyard. Dead bodies litter the ground, some wrapped up in canvas with arms and legs poking out of them, some seeming to be crushed. Reduced to bloody lumps of cloth.

 

How many days have they been left out in the sweltering sun that had no mercy for the fallen? Skin wrinkled and weathered from the exposure. What skin was left, at least. The bugs had taken their share of the feast laid before them, the decomposition seeming to have been accelerated. You swallow on a dry tongue, daring to glance behind you. The sky was taking on the first shade of grey, and with the rising sun stirring giants. Knowing the risk, you kneel down to touch the insignia on the fallen corpse at your feet. The same insignia that was on the back of every corpse you've seen so far. The white and blue embroidered wings.

 

“I’m sorry. May your death never be seen in vain,” you whisper, coming up to stare ahead. 

 

 _If they have the wall then why were they so far away from it?_   _What could they gain from venturing away from their safety net?_

You swallow thickly, chill running up your spine while a drop of sweat ran down. _Unless these people aren't_ _in association with whoever is behind that wall._ _Maybe they were trying to get away from it?_

Your heart beat fast in your chest only partly due to your physical exertion. What savages would leave their dead out in the open like this? If this was how they treated their own, you didn’t want to know what they might do to you.

 

 

But you _will_ find out. It was against your will at this point. The rope attached to your gut had stopped pulling a long ago.

 

 

It was dragging you, kicking and screaming if need be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i originally wrote this story as a first person POV but things were moving so slowly because of it and i also got super insecure bc, like, nobody writes first person POVs?? so i was likeheheh ok lemme rewrite 6 30k word chapters bc why not. 
> 
> Also! Totally got the idea of reader taking the gear off a fallen soldier from Suesand's Landlocked fic! that fic is so..fucking good.. 
> 
> If you wanna chat my tumblr is Cutiepiejane! Comments, kudos, bookmarks and the likes are very appreciated!!
> 
>  
> 
> edit: 9/21/19  
> changed the tense and fixed any grammatical errors


	2. Starving, I'd choose starving.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (edit 9/17/19.  
> rewrote the first half of this bc it was trash and also filled in a minor plot hole that got revealed to me in the future chapters.)

 

 _The Gods are cruel,_ you think as your arms fall limp to your sides, feet come to a galloping stop for only the second time since you left the forest. Your knees threaten to buckle from under you as you stare out at the wall less than 40 meters from where you stood. Ominous and massive, it reached taller than you could have imagined, stretching to the sky and wrapping around for miles. The dark shapes you'd been seeing for miles finally began to take truer form as you approached closer, and with them the twist of a knife in your gut as the sun drew closer to the horizon. 

 

The night that had cloaked you in a blanket of safety had also hid from you a salient detail about the wall. In all its glory, massive and awe inspiring, the creeping sun drew back your ignorance.

 

At the bottom of the wall, where the outermost curve inflected, a massive, gaping hole resided. 

 

Cracked stone and toppled brick, remnants of what looked to be a gate destroyed. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly with your heavy pants, stomach folding in on itself. All you could do was  _stare._

The bubble in your chest popped, the breath you'd been chasing for hours leaving you in a defeated gust. _They were evacuating?_ you asked yourself. _This entire time I've been running towards_  this? 

 

Your feet, raw and wet from more than just sweat, scream at you as you took a step forward. Then another. Your mind shouts at you too, shouting  _what are you doing?!_ _There is no hope, you won't be saved!_ Another, then another until you were running once more. Towards the hole, until it all made more sense. 

Behind it, the day's first shadows playing off an irregular shape. Closer and closer, the sky grew lighter and your pulse sounded loud in your ears. 

 

There was something blocking the hole from the inside.

 

In your heated relief, you fail to notice two dark figures even closer to you than the wall, their awakening senses slowly but steadily coming back to them.

 

\--

 

If you had anything to expel through your bladder, now would be the time.

 

“Shit, shit!  _HELP!_ ” you scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning bright.

 

If there is a chance that someone, either in these abandoned houses or over the wall could hear your wails, you are going to take that bet. 

You don't have to glance behind you to know the giants are dangerously hot on your tail, their footsteps shaking the earth underneath you. There are only two, both slowed by the early sun, but it's a small blessing. Two or ten, fast or slow, it only takes one misplaced stomp to drive you to an early grave. There's no way you could outrun them, muscles lethargic and stiff from the miles you tracked on bleeding feet with nowhere to hide or take shelter. No tall trees, houses low to the ground. Your only hope now was that wall. 

 

You look down at the two gadgets in your hands, dirt dulling the steel and blood stuck to the wooden grip. _Please don’t fail me,_ you think, more or less pray.

 

Ducking into an alleyway you come to a slide and slam into a building, feeling a  _woosh_ of air at your back. The picture of the beast closest to you taking a leap in an attempt to catch you in its grip flashes through your mind along with an icy shiver down your back. Feet hitting hard on the packed dirt, you keep running towards the wall until you knew for certain the wires around your waist would reach. The sound of brick and wood breaking drowns out your scream as one of the giants plummet straight through several buildings right behind you.

 

Eyes trained forward and hips aimed upwards like you had practiced, you slam both of the triggers with trembling fingers. The sharp spears shoot out from their spot at your waist and embed themselves into the pale grey wall ahead of you with two satisfying crunches a third of the way up the wall. Just out of reach from the two giants.

 

_Yes! Okay, now the second trigger. Brace for it... Now!_

 

The second triggers are pulled with your middle fingers, the grip at the very front yanked on next to propel you with the tanks. The gas hissed from behind you loudly, jerking your body forward at an ungodly speed. Too fast,  _far too fast._  

Unprepared for such a violent lurch, you slide across the ground until your boots no longer have anything underneath them, your body lifting into the air abruptly. You feel yourself leaning forward at an alarming rate, struggling to keep your balance with the pace you were going at.

 

 _I’m going to hit the wall head first!_ your thoughts raced. _That would be the end of me! I’ll be a little stain on this massive fucking wall!_

 

Forcing your critical mind to think faster than your emotional one, you throw your body weight back until you're nearly parallel to the ground, then detach your left hook from the wall. Set off balance and being pulled by one hip, you've slowed down greatly but are still traveling fast enough to kill if you end up hitting the wall wrong.

 

Your anchor point approach quickly, and you know from climbing the massive trees you'll need to time yourself just right in order to manage a second anchor while midair. Counting down in your head, your fingers just barely touching the triggers.

Detaching the second hook just before you meet it, you fly past the small indentation it created, completely free of the wires tethering you to the wall and relying completely on your momentum to bring you higher. Just before you reach the apogee of your speed the wires shoot out from their boxes and land only a few meters from the top of the giant wall. Reeling yourself in you steer towards your new target. It's slowed you down significantly, body flying through the air at a now almost tolerable speed, but your balance is still thrown off. Flying too close to the wall with not enough control, your shoulder slams heavily into the stone.

A violent scream passed through clenched teeth, indescribable pain blossoming all over your body as it skips up and bounces off the wall like a flat rock against water, right arm falling limp to your side. You come to a skidding stop a few feet away from where the hooks have entered the wall, wires taught and dangling you by your waist. It takes all your remaining strength to keep your body upright, repeating in your head a mantra of  _'don't pass out, don't pass out'._

  
Over your whimpers you can hear shouts from above you, brows knitting to try and listen to what they're saying--or discern if they're simply hallucinations. 

 

 

_“...fuck is that!”_

_“...uniform!”_

_“Help...up!”_

_“Couldn’t it... Female Titan?”_

_“Go get...!”_

 

Through your haze you can hardly understand it all, fazing in and out of consciousness as your eyes flutter open and shut. You don't even care what they're shouting or the fact that the accent is completely foreign to you, too grateful that you're hearing something other than guttural moans and growls. Hot tears run down your cheeks and a light sob interrupts the race to catch your breath. Only this one wasn't a cry of agony, but of relief. 

 

You finally did it.

 

You made it to the wall.

 

And there are _other people._

 

A muddled noise makes you force your head up, a hand extended out to you. It may as well have been one of the merciful Gods themselves to help you climb up to heaven.

 

You grasp onto it for dear life and are hoisted up atop the wall with ease, limbs moving only to crawl away from the edge. Collapsing on your back and cradling your right shoulder, your chest rises and falls rapidly to accommodate your heavy breaths. Through your muddled vision you can make out several faces looking down at your prone body, all painted heavily with a different emotion. Worry, confusion, suspicion, fear. 

 

Hell, you can't blame them. None of you knew what was going on in the moment.  

 

A short kick to your foot draws your eyes back open, head rolling to the side. “Identify yourself, now!” comes a gruff voice. You go to answer, say at least something, but all that falls out is a groan. "Now or we shoot!" Brows knitting, everything happens so fast. There are... guns pointed at you? Your vision has blurred them past the point of being able to count how many, but just like with the giants it only took one to end your suffering.

 

 _Great_ , you think bitterly. _First living humans I come across and they’re all hostile._

 

“This is your last warning!”

 

 _Wait_ , you try to say. 

 

“Aim!” the man screams. You'd be lying to say you weren’t expecting this to be the outcome of reaching the wall. You wait with clenched fists for the end, for the loud bang and then blackness.  For a minute there you were _so sure_ you had made it to salvation.

 

“Is this how we do it, gentlemen?"  a new voice booms. Gravely and worn, but most certainly one of authority. And _really_ angry. "Shoot first and ask questions later?” 

 

“B-but she could be-”

 

“By the Walls.  _She could be from the 57th!_ Get her to the infirmary, NOW! Before I have you thrown off this wall!”  

 

You hear rather than see something being placed next to your limp body. Feel something wrap under your left shoulder, and before you can tell them not to touch the right someone is already attempting to lift you by your arm. 

 

A faint wail that you barely recognize as your own voice meets your ears before your vision goes dark, body and mind finally succumbing to the pain. 

 

\--

 

Your world was defined by dark shapes and nondescript voices. Like sleeping with a fever, never knowing quite what was reality or what was inside your head. Tall figures moving around, your body being lifted, tugged, pulled. No matter if something hurt or ached you couldn't speak. Couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes longer than a second. 

 

When you finally come to a true form of consciousness all you can think is how you're not ready to get up. Exhausted, you are so exhausted, yet fully awake. Fully awake, yet unable to open your eyes. Something cold presses up against your lips. You grimace before a cool liquid touched them. _Water_?

 

Your hand shoots out blindly, trying to grab onto where you assumed the cup pressing against your mouth is, though you miss by a long shot.

With a yelp and jerk, your face and the majority of your chest gets doused. Groaning, you finally blink your eyes open. Blurry and unfocused, you do your best to glare at whoever.

 

“S-she’s up! She’s awake!” the man next to you yelps, his voice too loud on your sensitive ears. There are hurried footsteps and the slam of a metal door, the sound of keys jingling together. More shouts and more hurried footsteps, though distant and now accompanied by slower and heavier ones.

 

You rub at your eyes to clear them, noting that your right arm is in a sling and there's something heavy on your left.

 

A shackle.

 

Drawing your focus from the chained cuff bolted to a stone wall, everything seems to dawn on you at once. The slightly musky, damp air, the orange light of a candle, not a single window to be seen. _They put me in a prison cell?_  

 

You're reminded of your queries before reaching the wall, the incredibly warm welcome you got atop it. Now that you're inside you can't help but worry that your gut has betrayed you. Maybe you were better off starving, or getting eaten by one of those beats in the woods.

  
Remembering the faces of the ones that chased you, you think better of it.

 

 _Starving_ , you think. _I’d choose starving._

 

When the heavy footsteps stop you reluctantly look up, steadying your gaze on the two new figures standing just outside of the bars you were encased in.

 

An old and weathered man with a proud grey mustache and bald head held a soft grin, rosy cheeks and deep wrinkles decorating his face. He wore the uniform everyone here seemed to wear, though he had a dark red sash crossed over his chest. His light grey eyes were looking at you softly, almost sympathetically.

 

The man next to him was a few inches taller and as broad as the big ass trees you were just in. His blond hair was combed back neatly and his undercut looked nothing short of perfect. Chiseled cheekbones and a dangerously sharp jaw, you noticed his full lips were frowning. _Hot fucking damn._ Thick brows framed large blue eyes that weren’t devoid of emotion, but heavily guarded what was behind them. You couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking despite how hard you tried.

 

Probably that you looked absolutely pathetic.

 

You force yourself to sit up despite the pain it sends through your spent body. Grunting, you propped yourself rather weakly against the wall behind you. You were embarrassed at how much it took out of you, feeling out of breath with just the simplest action. The chains rattle against themselves, and you realize they’ve secured your legs in them too.

 

“Please try not to move too much. You took quite a bit of damage scaling the wall, it’s best for you to rest,” the older man tells you. You recognized his voice as the one that told those men not to shoot you, though thankfully it doesn’t hold a hint of anger this time around. As if reading your thoughts, he chuckled lightly. “You’ll have to forgive us for our rude welcoming atop the wall. Can’t say we take very well to surprises.”

You weren’t sure what to do, if you were supposed to say anything. Even if you wanted to your mouth was dry and dehydrated. And that cold blue gaze wasn’t exactly helping you any.

 

“I am Commander Pixis of the Garrison, and this is Commander Erwin of the Survey Corps. Does any of this ring any bells to you?” the older man asks slowly.

You try to swallow, but your throat constricts painfully. You looked between the two of them, trying to force yourself to piece them in your mind. You knew neither of them. Would it hurt your chances of making it out of this unscathed if you admitted you didn’t have a clue?

 

“You wouldn’t happen to be able to understand us, would you?” The blond man, Commander Erwin, asks. He takes a step closer to the cell’s bars.

 

“I-I uh,” you try. Your voice was weak, barely an audible whisper. You try to roll your tongue in your mouth to help articulate before deciding to settle on a nod.

 

“Bring this young lady some more water. It’ll do her better to drink it, not wear it,” Commander Pixis demanded, another soft chuckle leaving his mouth. You looked down, remembering just then your soiled shirt. It wasn’t the one you had taken off the woman, but a thin cotton currently sticking to your chest. It was all but transparent and you covered yourself as best you could with your good arm. Your cheeks were dusted with a faint pink, mortified. The man responsible for your wet shirt squeaked a ‘yes sir!’ and turned on his heel, disappearing out of sight.

 

The two Commanders quietly whispered to each other, neither gaze leaving you. You swallowed harshly, averting your eyes.

 

The soldier came back soon enough with a second cup of water, alleviating the awkwardness a tad as their focus turned to him. The Survey Corps Commander reached out and took the cup, thanking and dismissing him. The man hit his right hand rather hard to his chest and you couldn’t help your eyes widening at the sight. _Lord, is that some kind of salute? They punch themselves? Over their hearts no less? How barbaric._

 

The jingle of keys brought your attention back to the blond Commander that was currently opening the cell door and stalking towards you. You so desperately wanted to sink back further against the wall and hide away from him, but held your ground. Now was not the time to seem weak, despite your state speaking enough for you. Blue orbs stared into your own, something behind them that you still couldn’t place. You stared back just as hard. Probably not a very strategic move, but the slight raise of his thick eyebrows told you it wasn’t taken the wrong way. The small victory was overshadowed when he extended the cup to you and you inwardly cringed at the way your hand shook almost violently when you tried to take it.

 

He gently placed his large hand over your own and pushed it back down to lie at your side. Bringing the cup up to your lips himself, you only hoped that this wouldn’t end the same way it did last time. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you gulped it down greedily, your eyes never leaving the Commander’s. You weren’t an idiot, this was certainly some kind of power move. Some psychological trick to make you feel weaker than you were. If he wanted to establish dominance you weren’t going to back down, despite being a battered mess.

 

“How long have I been here?” you ask, finally able to speak a bit clearer once the cup was drained and set aside. Your accent brought a curious look to the two men.

 

“Nearly two days,” the blond Commander tells you. You swallow, looking down. You guess you had exhausted yourself further than you thought, running mostly on adrenaline out in the woods. Even with the much needed rest, you felt completely spent.

 

 

“If you’re well enough to speak then we have questions that you need to answer for us, Miss,” Commander Pixis says, tone gentle but leaving no room for negotiation. Looking between the two men you begin to grow nervous. You know you’ll be of little use without your memory. To them or yourself. You nod, seeing there no other choice.

 

“Were you apart of the 57th expedition?” Commander Erwin asks softly, kneeling next to your bed.

 

You watch him for a moment before answering with a slow shake of your head. “I don’t think so.”

 

This is obviously not the answer either of them were expecting. Commander Pixis stands a little straighter, taking a step towards the cell and the blond man makes a small noise of surprise.

 

“You... Don’t know?” the older Commander asks. You shake your head again.

 

“Are you a survivor of Wall Maria, possibly?” Commander Erwin asks. _There's no chance,_ he thinks. _No way she’d have survived out there all this time._ Even more confused you tell him you're not sure what that is. A pregnant pause passes, thick brows furrowing.

 

“What’s your name?” he asks firmly.

 

Your eyes widen and you look at him horrified. “My name?” you parrot. Closing your eyes and trying to concentrate, you can’t help but nearly choke on the saliva in your mouth, tongue suddenly feeling thick. _What is my name? Didn’t it start with an... A? Maybe an L? Gods, why couldn’t I just_ remember? _It couldn’t be that hard, could it?_

 

It’s weak if not a bit panicked when you finally answer. “I-I'm not sure.”

 

Both of them openly stare at you. _This isn’t going well,_ you think as you begin to fidget nervously. If their patience was running thin neither of them were showing it. Instead they share a look of understanding before the older man spoke up once more. “Can you tell us what you do know? What you remember?”

 

You nod, happy that they seem to understand your situation as well as happy to be able to answer at least one of their questions. You tell them about waking up in the woods, seeing the monster and beginning to run. You tell them how you came across the dead bodies and pause, realizing suddenly the reality of what you had done.

 

You can’t do much for a moment but gape at the men in front of you, fighting back the tears beginning to well in your eyes. You had no time to allow any of your emotions to catch up to you while you were in the woods, repressing them in the heat of the moment. The fear, the guilt, the anger. Sure, you felt them while you were out there, but they were pushed far back in the name of survival. Now, there was nothing holding them from slamming into you full force. You feel a tear slip past, running hot down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly, pretending it had never escaped in the first place. Trying to keep your voice even while you spoke turned out to be a more laborious task than you anticipated.

 

“I... I took the clothes and equipment off a dead girl’s back.” You stop, hand clenched at your side. Surely this was an act punishable by death; defacing a fallen soldier. Maybe you shouldn’t have told them, but you couldn’t _lie_ about what you had done. Not now. The man next to you deserved to know; he wore the same symbol they did. As the girl you _desecrated_ did. _He was their Commander, surely._ You waited for a blow to your cheek, for disgust to be written across his face. Something.. But his cerulean eyes are void of anything of the like. He simply nodded and waited for you to continue, unaffected. You took a deep breath before speaking up again. “I ran at night when the giants weren’t moving and hid in the trees during the day. I followed a trail of... dead bodies. Until I saw the wall. I didn’t get to it fast enough, though. The sun came up and they were on me right up until I scaled the wall.”

 

They’re both silent, taking in your words. Neither men were strangers to the horrors of the world outside these walls, and unbeknownst to you they were both empathetic to what you were reduced to do. Unfortunately, empathy was an emotion that didn’t do someone in their position any good if they couldn’t push it aside.

 

Commander Erwin’s large hand comes up to your clavicle and you freeze. He slowly tugs the loose shirt down near your shoulder. He looks at your left shoulder for a second before returning your shirt to how it originally was. You pull the blanket closer to your chest, confused and uncomfortable. _I was expecting a punch to the face, not a...whatever the hell that was,_ you think.

 

“Erwin, I think that’s enough interrogation for now,” Commander Pixis spoke. “Young lady,” you lift your gaze to the older man, standing in the open doorway of the cell with his hands clasped behind his back. “If what you say is true you have nothing to fear from us. What you’ve seen is only the beginning stages of hell, and I don’t personally plan to put you through any more. So, please. Rest. I’ll have someone come down to bring you some food and the doctor will be on his way shortly."

 

You’re taken aback, partly by the kindness and partly by the choice words. _Beginning stages of hell?_ You don’t linger on the thought, thanking him and bowing your head. He turns to leave you in your cell with Commander Erwin.

 

With a quiet sigh, the blond stood from his kneel. You nearly jump when a soft hand came to rest on your shoulder, looking up to see blue eyes gazing softly at you.

 

“I understand the terror you felt out there and hold no resentment for the choices you had to make. You did what you had to in the name of survival,” he says, deep voice reassuring and gentle. “But if you're lying,” Just as quickly, the kindness in his eyes is left behind, soft hand gripping your shoulder with a firm pressure, just a feather drop away from being painful. Your eyes widen marginally, and he catches it. Latches onto it. He speaks slowly, carefully enunciating his words with a tone so cold it makes your breath catch in your throat. “Fess up to it now. If you don’t, I’ll personally pull the planks from under your feet when you're hung.”

 

The air around you is nearly suffocating, the Commander staring down the length of his nose at you, waiting for an answer. Staring back at him with what you hoped he understood was honesty, you open your mouth. “It’s the truth, sir.”

 

He watches you for a second longer before letting go of your shoulder, walking out of the cell and locking it. With a final glance, a soft smile is pressed on his lips. “Rest easy for now. I'll be back before long.”

 

It's spoken like a threat.

 

\--

 

Commander Erwin stalks his way through the halls, nodding at the soldiers who salute him and waving off anyone who approached without dire news. Behind a large wooden door he's greeted by a waiting Pixis, staring out the large window that stood behind his desk. Stuffing the metal flask he had just drank from into his breast pocket, he turns with raised brows.

 

“Well?” 

 

“She’s not one of our soldiers. The blisters on her shoulder from the straps are too fresh.”

 

“I could have told you that much, judging by the way she struggled up the wall,” Pixis laughs, though it isn’t demeaning to either you or Erwin. “If you're set on taking her in then you’ve got yourself a hell of a fight waiting for you with the MP's.”

 

A knowing smile tugs on the corners of the blond man’s mouth. “And here I thought the trouble would be with you, sir. Not like you to let a pretty young woman out of your grasp so easily."

 

A hearty laugh booms through the room, shoulders shaking lightly. Just as quickly a seriousness washes over the two Commanders. “Your hands are quite full, Erwin. Between Jaeger and the last expedition. Do you think you can handle the task of keeping watch over another?”

 

There's no need for further elaboration between the two of them, the question hanging thick in the air. The older man's flask returns to his hands, cap being screwed off slowly and brought to his lips. He pauses before taking a sip, turning slightly to carefully look at Commander Erwin.

 

“Not that I doubt you don't already have something up your sleeve. In fact, I’d rather not know what you plan to do. I quite enjoy the suspense.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh the scheming erwin. he's the hardest character for me to write, the lil devil (he's also my least favorite character oops there i said it) 
> 
> (don't compare the true map of the walls to where reader ends up lmao, i'm rewriting a lot so i might as well rewrite where that damn forest is)


	3. Uncle Smith wants YOU for the Survey Corps(e)

You had no idea how long you had been in the cell, having been brought two meals to eat and the guard at your door changing three times. You fell asleep twice, though for how long was uncertain, and the bandage at your shoulder seemed to have had been changed during that time. You wondered briefly how the doctor had managed to redress it without stirring you, especially with how painful it was to touch.

 

The guard outside your cell didn’t take too kindly when you asked about the time of day, snapping that it didn’t matter since you had nowhere to go. You stuck your tongue out at his turned back petulantly.

 

There was nothing for you to do in the small room, and since the grump outside your door wasn’t going to entertain your attempts at conversation you decided to lay back and… do nothing.

 

It was only about an hour into attempting to fall back asleep to pass the time when you couldn't take it anymore. Not only were you painfully bored out of your mind, but you hadn’t stood on your feet since you arrived, body as restless as your mind and aching legs begging to be properly stretched.

 

You also really had to pee.

 

You cleared your throat, expecting the guard to look up from the book he was reading. He didn't. “Excuse me," you say loud enough that you were certain he'd hear. "I have to use the restroom.” 

 

“You can wait,” was the almost immediate gruff reply. 

 

“Wait for what? My bladder to erupt?” you snarled back. You had gulped down four more glasses of water since your last meal, finally feeling like the constantly dry state of your throat had been somewhat alleviated. It was a relief, but now all that water had to go somewhere.

 

“If you soil the bed you’ll have to sit in it until the next shift.”

 

You bristled, heat rising off of you like steam. You sat in the bed for what felt like eternity, legs squeezing together uncomfortably and teeth switching between gnawing on your already chipped and destroyed fingernails and the skin on your lips.

 

Finally, you heard the faintest of footsteps and sighed. _Thank the gods, a shift change,_ you thought. As the steps got closer, you noticed it wasn’t just one set of feet making the noise. You perked up in your bed a bit and watched as the guard outside your door lazily looked up from his book before nearly tossing it off his lap with the speed he stood up. He threw his fist to his chest, back straight as a board.

 

“Dismissed,” Commander Erwin’s deep voice rang out, causing you to sit up a bit straighter as well. The guard quickly nodded and made to leave his post, fumbling with his book before scuffing out of sight.

 

When the Commander said that he’d be back he hadn’t mentioned why, but you assumed it was to resume your interrogation. You had expected he’d bring someone else with him, probably Commander Pixis or one of his subordinates.

 

Not a full blown audience.

 

Three other soldiers stood with him outside your cell, heads tilted down and eyes hidden by the harsh shadows cast by the torches on the walls. One was incredibly tall, holding a few inches over the Commander, and another was rather short. He couldn’t have been that much taller than you, even. There was a woman with them as well, but it didn’t do much to quell your growing anxiety. At the sight of them and the dismissal of the guard outside your door you had subconsciously bunched a handful of the blanket on your legs, gripping it tightly.

 

The Commander wore a kind smile on his lips, blue eyes watching you through the bars of the cell.

 

“Good evening, apologies for the wait. How are you feeling?” he asked politely.

 

If the guard was still there you would have made a face at him, the Commander having gave up the time of day to you. “Feeling better, sir," you offered. His smile grows a bit, nodding his head.

 

“Great to hear. Would you mind if we came in?”

 

 _Absolutely not,_ you think. With no one around you wanted them as far away from you as possible. You doubted they would do anything, but you couldn’t be sure. You tried not to let your hesitance show, though the pause and reluctant nod doesn't go unnoticed.

 

It wasn’t a big cell, only large enough to accommodate at most three of the cots you slept on, now filled to the brim with four broad shouldered soldiers. It felt like you were all shoved in a broom closet. They stared wordlessly and you fidgeted in your spot.  

 

You jumped when a loud sniff came from right next to you, pain shooting through your body at the sudden movement. You tried to glare up at the man responsible for said pain, but it only registered as a wince. You had to crane your neck almost all the way back to get a view of him when he stood up straight, thick arms coming to cross over his large chest. Sandy colored locks brushed just over his eyes and neatly trimmed facial hair adorned his lip and jaw. He sniffed a few more times before grinning, looking down his hooked nose at you.

 

You turned to the Commander with wide eyes, imploring him to tell you _just what the hell_ that was all about, but he gave nothing up.

 

“Can we get on with this? She looks like she’s about to shit herself,” the shorter man said, his deep voice seeming to boom off of the walls of the cell.

 

 _Piss_ , you think. _I’m going to piss myself._

 

“Your presence has caused quite the stir among the military,” the Commander starts, ignoring the rude comment. He held his hands held behind his back, face stoic as he spoke. “While I'm sure you are still exhausted and need all the rest you can get, it is imperative we discuss your situation as soon as possible. Is that alright with you?”

 

Your eyes dart between the orbs set permanently on yours before nodding your head.

 

“Since your case is quite unique and holds so many uncertainties you have very limited options, but options nonetheless. You will be placed in the hands of the military, that is without debate, but it falls onto you to choose which branch you would like to be stationed under. So, you can cooperate with the Survey Corps and work for us... Or be executed by the Military Police.”

 

Your eyes widen marginally. _Some fucking options! Why would they even bother with staging it like I had a choice?_  “What will the Survey Corps do with me?” you ask cautiously.

 

A small smile pulls at the edges of the Commander’s mouth before returning to their neutral line quickly after.

 

“It would make a bit more sense if I explained a few things to you first. Answer some of the questions I’m sure you have,” he says. You agree, asking him to continue. “As you’ve seen, the titans lurking outside our walls pose a rather large threat to humanity. They have for over 100 years,” he tells you. “They’ve taken countless lives and pushed humanity to the brink of extinction, forcing the last surviving humans to build and hide behind these Walls.”

 

Your furrow your brow. _The last surviving humans?_ You watch him carefully as he looks over to the woman. She reaches in her breast pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, unfolding it and handing it to her Commander. He places it next to you on your cot, drawn on it were three circles inside of each other and four semicircles on all of them.

 

“This is a map of our walls. Wall Sina, Wall Rose and Wall Maria. This,” he points to a large X drawn on the map. It’s at the bottom of the largest circle. “Is where the forest you woke up.” Your eyes shoot from the map to the face just inches from yours. He watches you carefully as he speaks next. “You were in Wall Maria, though it cannot be confirmed that you ever lived inside of it. Because we’ve never had contact to any other humans outside the Walls it can’t yet be confirmed that you came from beyond them, either.”

 

A thousand questions run through your head at once, mouth pinching to the side. “If I was already in the walls, then why were those _things_ there?” you ask, shaking your head.

 

“Five years ago a catastrophe took place, and the walls surrounding the district of Shiganshina,” he points at the semicircle at the very bottom. “Were compromised, allowing the titans to flood in and decimate the town, claiming the entire outermost territory and killing nearly a fifth of our population.”

 

Commander Erwin comes to a kneel next to your bed, blue eyes boring deep into yours. “The Survey Corps’ mission is to scout and retake the land the titan’s stole from us, eventually eradicating them and liberating humanity from these walls. We’d like to enlist your help to do so.”

 

You press your lips together with a slight frown, brow creasing. “And how do you propose I do that?”

 

“You’ve already proven yourself quite useful. You’re resourceful and capable of making decisions under high stress. Your odds out there were less than a single percentage, and yet it got you here, to safety. Don’t allow that potential to be wasted at the hands of a firing squad. Put your life on the line for the sake of humanity. Join the Survey Corps in taking back our freedom and dignity from the titans. If you choose to join you would be put under the supervision of the officer's in this room, working with and training under them until you are in well enough shape to join us on our next expedition into Wall Maria.”

 

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, eyes staring at him wide. “You expect me to go back out there? After all I went through to _get here?”_

 

“Yes.”

 

There’s a heavy pause and you bury your head in your hands, shoulders shaking a moment later. Nobody bats an eye at the display, a pair of grey eyes daring to roll.

 

It’s not until a startlingly loud laugh falls from your mouth that their eyes go wide, shoulders tensing at the abrupt sound. You can’t help it, tears coming to your eyes with how hard you were laughing and body aching from the convulsions. The otherwise beautiful sound was marred by the context, each set of eyes flicking around the room to each other with trepidation. 

When your fit finally subsides you lift your head to look into the Commander’s eyes. They’re wide, staring at you with transparent confusion. “I was wondering why you’d go through such a length to convince me to join you. It's because either way I'll be killed.” You bark one last laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Only the Military Police have given me the option of a quick, merciful death.”

 

A finger comes to wipe the corner of your eye, brushing away the tears that had gathered there with a smile still set on your lips. Your thoughts flash back to the girl you saw in the woods, her glassy eyes staring at you. You wondered what went through her head as she was killed, if she held onto the hope that she was helping mankind by offering her life. Surely she had other options, didn’t have to join the branch of military that went on suicide missions. What passion possessed her to join? Were they forced to join these ranks? Dull eyes fell on the crest on the Commander’s breast pocket. Blue and white wings sat proudly over his heart. It was the symbol every dead body you saw brandished, the one the soldiers in your cell wore with pride. They all risked ending up like their comrades. Crushed to death and mutilated. Left out in the fields to rot.

 

You were right to think they were running from what was behind the walls. They were running away from being caged like animals, docile and waiting for the next breech. Was that why they faced those beasts? 

  
The Commander watches you while you think, blue eyes running over the wistful smile that had spread unknowingly across your lips. He wondered for a moment what you could possibly be thinking about to bring such a look. About to open his mouth and give you one last shot at convincing, he stops just as you open your own. 

 

“I’ll join.”

 

Your voice sounds foreign to your ears, loud and clear like you had yet to hear it before. There's a pause before the wings you had been staring at crinkle as the Commander - _your_ Commander - extends his large hand towards you, fingers pressed tightly together. 

 

You accept it, but you can't knock the feeling you were shaking hands with the devil. Signed your life away in a shitty deal to see your death. You could see it clearly, alright. You’d be mush under one of those _titan’s_ feet.

 

_Maybe it'd be blissful._

 

“Yahoo!” the woman yells, startling you. “I knew you had it in you, doll!”

 

The Commander stands from his kneel, smile on his face. “You made the right choice,” he assures you. “As I said, the people in this room will be responsible for your training. You'll be in good hands. To your left is Section Commander Miche Zacharias,” You turn to the man next to you. _Right, the bloodhound that sniffed me,_ you think bitterly. He smirks down at you, arms still crossed. “You will be working with him on physical conditioning and group training with his squad.”

 

“Pleasure,” you say. He nods.

 

“Next to him is Section Commander Hange Zoe.” The woman cracks a wide smile at you. Her brown hair was extremely messy and thrown in a haphazard ponytail behind her, pieces sticking out at every angle. Large brown eyes are behind thin glasses that rest a little low on her hooked nose. “You will be her helping hand with titan studies as well as weapon development. Can you read?”

 

You try to think. _Can I?_ “I’m not sure,” you offer. There’s a sniff and you pointedly ignore it, though a grimace crosses your features.

 

“That’s okay, sweetie!” The upbeat Section Commander says cheerily. “If you can’t we can always teach you. It’s great to have you with us.” You give her a likewise, genuinely trying to return the smile. It’s uncomfortable and tight but you force it on your face.

 

“And finally this is Captain Levi. You will be working with him honing in on your ODMG skills.” You meet the cold grey gaze of the shorter man, his eyes half lidded like this was the most boring thing he’s ever been subjected to. His skin was extremely pale, contrasting starkly with the black hair that was neatly styled in a military undercut. You nod once. He doesn’t return the favor.

 

“You have a few more days in here before you're clear for us to take you. Use that time to rest completely, understand?”

This time when he tells you, it sounds a lot more genuine, you note.

 

“Yes, sir,” you say. He smiled slightly.

 

“Good. Dinner will be brought to you shortly.” With that, they all turn to leave. _But, wait!_

 

“Commander Erwin!” you called before he’s out the cell door. They all turned back around and watched you carefully.

 

The Commander raised a single eyebrow. “Yes?”

 

You tried not to waver under all their gazes, swallowing consciously. “May I, uh. _Please_ use the restroom?” You also didn’t want to beg, but if that’s what it took.

He looked at you puzzled. In fact they all did.

 

“Have you not been let out to take a piss?” Captain Levi asks you. You shake your head.

 

“For gods’ sake, we aren’t trying to torture her just yet!” the woman bellows down the hall. Commander Erwin hands the keys to the tall man. With a gentle hand he lets you out of the shackles around your wrists, pulling on the blanket covering your lower half to get to the ones around your ankles too.

 

“Can you stand?” the Section Commander asks. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice yet, deep and gruff.

 

“I think so,” you tell him, though you struggle to even move, body still painfully sore and bruised. You manage to swing your legs over the edge of the bed. There are dark cotton pants covering them and you wonder for the first time _who dressed you_.

Seeing your struggle, the larger Section Commander puts out his arm and you take it gratefully. Shifting your weight onto your feet, you notice they’re bandaged pretty heavily and sting from the pressure. You're able to stand, albeit with a lot of your weight resting on the giant next to you. You balance on your feet and let go of his strong arm. One shaky attempt of a step forward and they give out instantly, body crumpling like a sack of potatoes.

 

Barely catching you, large hands awkwardly cup under your good shoulder and pulling you to him by your waist. He’s holding you up entirely on his own, your knees completely buckled from the weight.

 

_What a sad fucking sight, in front of my supposed superiors no less._

 

You stare up at the man, swallowing harshly before averting your gaze to the floor. Your cheeks had gone bright red and you could feel the heat radiating off of it.

 

“Levi, you're closest to her height,” Hange practically sings. “Help her, would ya? All Miche is going to be able to do is drag her.”

 

There's a grumble from the short man and you swallow when polished boots come to a stop in front of you. You can almost see yourself in their reflection, not a spec of dirt littering their smooth surface. They circled around the other side of you, taking your good arm to rest around his neck for support. His right arm finds itself securely on your waist and you fight off the shiver that’s threatening to give away how uncomfortable you are. 

 

“Try to walk, I’m not carrying you there,” the Captain snaps, though he doesn’t let up on how much of your weight he was bearing. “Unless you would like to be dragged.” His harsh words somehow made you feel a little bit better about the situation. He’s slow and surprisingly gentle with his movements, firm hands keeping you steady as you try to take the first step. The alleviated weight off your useless legs was a big help, but the pins and needles stabbing through them still made it difficult to bend your knees.

 

“Ensure she gets back to her cell just fine, Levi,” Commander Erwin says as he and the two Section Commanders taking their leave.

 

\--

 

Thankfully, the talk to the bathroom is short. You try to take in as much of your surroundings as you can without looking suspicious, noting there’s several other unoccupied cells to your left and a large staircase to the right of your cell which the trio go up. You're silently grateful you don’t have to attempt to walk up them just yet; nearly falling off of the bed was enough damage to your pride. Falling down a flight of stairs with your luck would certainly kill you at this point.

 

Speaking of luck: you had none. Not a single stitch of it left to your unknown name.

 

Opening the door to the restroom you realized then that since you could hardly stand on your own feet you weren’t going to be able to get to the toilet on your own. You clenched your thumb in your fist when the Captain stepped into the small room with you.

You used your good arm to balance your weight on his tense shoulder while he turned you around to face him, grey eyes looking pointedly up at the ceiling. Pursing your lips you try to follow suit and distract yourself, noting that this close you can smell something pleasantly fragrant on his breath, wondering if maybe it were tea or--

 

“What are you DOING?!” You scream right into his face. A bit louder than intended, but you were caught off guard by the hands currently trying to _pull your pants down_. He seemed equally caught off guard when you shrieked, hands nearly throwing you away from him but stopping short. He stared wide eyed at you, faces centimeters apart.

 

“Christ, kid, I’m not going to do anything!” he barks at you, eyes lifting back up to stare at something above. You don’t miss the flush that comes across his cheeks, grateful he’s not looking to see that your own skin was equally decorated. Thumbs hooking on both your underwear and the loose pants, they them both down your thighs with one strong jerk. You grind your teeth, absolutely mortified and certain that he could feel the beat of your racing heart this close. “I don’t like this any more than you do,” he says a bit more gently. He lowers you down slowly until your skin touches the cold hard surface of the toilet.

You're worried he’s going to stay in there while you relieve yourself, but he turns away and walks to the door. “Shout when you're done,” he calls before slamming it shut.

 

You relieve yourself quickly, sighing when the pressure on your abdomen subsides.

 

 _'Shout when you're done’._ _Like absolute hell I’m letting him pick me back up with my pants around my ankles._

 

You look down at your legs and will them to work with you, pushing your weight forward and trying to balance on them. You have to lean against the sink next to you for support, grasping at the edge to lift yourself up. Your entire torso was leaned on the counter as you washed your hands, painfully shifting around and pressing your back into it. You realize with an eye roll that you still need to bring your pants back up, which would require bending down. You sigh and try to do so, but your knees buckle and send you to the floor ungracefully with a rather loud _thud._

 

A string of whispered curses leave your mouth before there’s a rap on the door. “Did you fucking fall?” The Captain asks, voice monotone yet still carrying over a hint of annoyance.

 

“Uh, no! I’m good! Just… Shitting.” _Nice. Very classy._ You swear you hear a chuckle on the other side, but remembering who was out there you settled on it just being him grumbling.

You drag yourself to the wall next to the door and reach down to try to shimmy your your pants up with one hand. A difficult task, but with a little bit of patience you get them up to your thighs.

 

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “Now over my ass.”

You lean over with your stomach pressed to the ground, trying not to put too much pressure on the arm in the sling. With your hand behind you, you pull on each side of your pants a few times before the fabric finally covers you. _Yes! Now to get the hell out of here._

 

“Captain Levi!” you call, a bit out of breath. The door opens immediately and his eyes shoot from where you _were_ on the toilet to where you _are_ on the floor. You smile up at him and he glares.

 

“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute, huh?” he asks. You’ll be damned if he doesn’t sound a little amused. The scintilla of amusement is gone when he barks at you next. “The floor is fucking filthy, you pig. Do you want to be rolling around in shit?”

You _want_ to roll your eyes but think better of it. He leans down and picks you up by your waist with little effort, hoisting you back up onto your feet. _For a small guy he sure is strong._

 

The walk back to the cell is a lot easier and you're even able to take a few steps with a lot less weight on the man next to you. It slows the two of you down a bit, but the Captain doesn’t complain.

 

That was a relief, you were starting to wonder just what they’d do with you if it proved both your legs were well out of commission. You wouldn’t be much use to the military if you had to crawl all over the place. There was a new guard outside your cell this time, a woman who looked to be in her early 20’s. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the two of you, but quickly averted her eyes when a pair of grey eyes glared.

Sitting you down on the cot you pulled your legs up over the edge and settled them underneath the blanket. Your left arm was grabbed and the thick metal cuff returned around it, locked in place.

 

“Captain?” you call when he’s about to walk out.

 

He huffed and turned around. “What?”

 

“You didn’t put the shackles on my legs,” you tell him.

 

He smirks at you. “It’s not like you could run away.” Turning around and locking the cell door behind him, he leaves without another word.

 

It takes a while to realize the surprisingly kind opportunity presented to you by the Captain. With your legs unshackled you were able to walk around the cell. Granted, you were limited to where the chain around your hand would allow, but you were able to strengthen your legs at least. It was a struggle and you fell flat on your ass more times than you could count at this point, the guard outside your door perking up a few times and asking if you were okay.

Out of breath, you smile at her from your place on the ground.

 

“Peachy.”

 

\--

 

A little under a week had passed, each day accompanied by inspections from an older man who had introduced himself as Dr. Adams. He was incredibly kind and not a military doctor as you had assumed he would be. Salt and pepper hair and a thick beard of the same color, he wore glasses that dangled around his neck from a string and always the same crisp white shirt and dark jacket.

He’d hold your arm while taking you for walks around the hall in front of your cell twice a day to ensure your legs were getting proper exercise, praising your improvement each time. While you was able to walk without his help after a few days and your physical health was returning to you, your memory didn’t seem to be coming back any time soon.

 

The doctor would patiently ask the same questions every time he came by: What is your name, where did you come from, how old are you. Your answer never changed. You simply didn’t know. He’d also ask about things you learned since coming into the walls, like the name of the blond Commander, what branch of the military Commander Pixis belonged to. Simple things to make sure you could retain memories. He caught you off guard one day when he asked if you knew what color your eyes were.

You had blinked at him before answering, surprised by the revelation. “I-I don’t know.”

You realized then you had no idea what your own face looked like, touching your hand to your cheek. You had started to panic, breaths coming in rushed much like the first time Commander Erwin asked about your name. The doctor quickly hushed you, telling you to breathe smoothly with him and holding your elbow gently.

When you had calmed down he smiled kindly at you. “They’re _e/c._ Very beautiful, in fact.”  

 

Despite not knowing anything about yourself or your situation, you quickly found you weren’t a lost cause, surprising yourself often with small things you knew. A bottle in his doctor’s bag sparked recognition and you quickly read the word to him, elated in your revelation. He had gently patted you on your back, praising you and asking if you wanted some books to be brought down to keep you occupied. You eagerly nodded, and in a few hours was given a soldier’s handbook and a history book about the walls. Not exactly what you were hoping for, but they were appreciated nonetheless.

 

Ever since the day you had accepted Commander Erwin’s proposal into the Survey Corps, the guards outside your cell had always been women. You had sparked up conversation with a few, befriending them quickly. There were some cultural differences that at first seemed to be a bit of a deterrent to your discourse, but the closer you got the them the easier it was just to laugh them off.

The fact you had a foul mouth struck you as the weirdest thing you found separated you from them, earning gasps every now and again when you’d say something crude or litter your conversations with expletives. They apparently weren’t used to it coming from another woman, even with them being in the military.

 

The girls at first would often have you repeat a word you had said because of your accent and you’d do the same, playfully mimicking each other and laughing about it.

You’d look forward to every guard shift and quickly became a source to spill gossip to, hearing a few things here and there about how Commander Pixis always carried a flask with him and would hit on female soldiers and civilians alike. Commander Erwin, despite belonging to the branch of the military with the least public favor ( _go figure,_ you had thought), was well admired by the other soldiers.

 

They told you how the Military Police were a bunch of corrupt bastards and you found yourself giggling with them about how their commanding officer looked like a drowned street rat. You had never seen him and, knowing he was the one wanting you dead, you hoped you never would.

It was a nice distraction to have from your current situation. You were eternally grateful not to be treated like a criminal, even being allowed to have the shackle on your wrists removed before long. Even so, you were well aware when the guards would begin a sentence only to change the subject quickly there after. It didn’t bother you any, ignoring the sudden shifts in conversation like they had never happened.

 

\--

 

You’re lightly jogging from one side of the room to the other, Lana, one of the guards you had become particularly good friends with, was reading a book in her seat across the hall. You hear footsteps coming down the stairs and pause your exercise to walk up to the bars of the door, leaning against them to see who it was.

 

You knew Dr. Adams had given you clearance to be released, telling you that morning that a scout would be there later to collect you. While he tended to your bandage he said it was almost entirely healed, but to refrain from ‘throwing punches for another week’. The two of you shared a good laugh about it before he parted with a bittersweet ruffle of your hair.

Your eyes met with with brown ones and a smile instantly spreads on your face. Hange had come to see you multiple times since your initial visit, checking up on you to see how progress was going and occasionally having a simple chat with you. She wore her normal uniform, but a green cloak was around her shoulders and her ‘ODM’ gear was strapped around her waist.

 

“Hello, darling! Been a bit, huh? How are you feeling?” she asks, hand coming up to unlock the cell door. You back away from it, leaning against the wall as you wait for it to open.

 

“Almost back to my normal self, thank goodness,” you tell her, holding out your right hand to show that it was no longer in it’s sling and now mobile.

 

“Great! I’ve brought you a new pair of shoes and _this_!” She holds out a pair of brown boots and a green cloak with what you learned through the soldier’s handbook was the ‘wings of freedom’ emblem. You take them both from her with a ‘thank you’, slipping the shoes on and fitting the cloak around your shoulders.

 

“Are you ready to get out of her? We’re finally moving onto our next step. Are you ready?” she asks quickly, voice dripping in excitement.

 

You nod your head eagerly, though it’s forced. You were truly excited not to be confined to a cell, but it’s what came after that that worried you. She doesn’t pick up the apprehension and you don’t have the heart to tell her you’ve been dreading this day for a while.

 

Before you leave you give Lana a tight hug, your first physical interaction with her yet. She squeezes you back and whispers a ‘good luck’ into your hair followed by a kiss to your cheek. You tell her if you were able to, you’d come visit her and you both share a somber smile.

 

“Tell me how working under Commander Handsome is, yeah?” she says when you part. You give her a wink and a promise to do so.

 

Hange waited patiently at the base of the stairs, smiling at you when you meet her there. She began her decent up them, but you stood at the foot hesitantly. You hadn’t gone up them yet, not even with Dr. Adams. Placing your foot on the first step, you take it gingerly before quickly catching up to where Hange was half way up. “So, still no updates on your name?” she asks when you meet her.

 

You shake your head. “Afraid not, uh. Section Commander.”

 

That elicits a laugh out of her. “Ooh, so you’ve been reading that book they gave you? No need, doll, Hange is just fine for me. _Your_ name can be dealt with later, however. I’d be lying to say you don’t already have a few nicknames at the base,” she cackles and you feel your cheeks light up. “Well, I suppose since you are a cadet now then that’s all that’s going to fit. You don’t mind, do you?”

 

You shake your head. _Better than what I’m sure is going around._

 

You’re disappointed to see that it was grey and cloudy out, hoping the next time you got outside it would be bright and sunny.

 

“Alright then, cadet! Do you know how to ride a horse?” Hange asks when you’re both outside. You stare at the three horses tied to a post, two black and one a dark brown.

You walk up to the brown one and hold out your hand. Its long face gave few cautious sniffs before a long tongue slips out and licks the back of your hand.

 

“I’m not scared, so I think so?” you offer, gently rubbing the mare’s soft nose.

 

“Just try not to fall off and break your neck,” a deep, monotone voice tells you. You turn around to see Captain Levi walking towards you, arms crossed. You feel heat rise in your cheeks, remembering what transcribed the last time you were around him and quickly turn back to the horse to hide the blush you knew was soon to spring up.

 

“The ride to the base isn’t very long, but we’ll need to hurry if we want to beat the storm coming. You're to ride directly next to me the entire time, okay?” She leans in and points at Captain Levi, whispering to you. “If you try to run you're going to have one angry little man on your tail.” You eye the gear around his hips, understanding the warning.

 

Hange waits for you to mount the brown horse first and it comes like second nature. You throw one foot into the stirrup, the other leg over the saddle and settle into it with practiced ease, picking up the reigns in your hands and twisting them over your thumbs. You don’t know how you knew to do it, but at this point it almost didn’t surprise you. The three of you beginning your journey down a dirt road through the woods, trot of the horses the only sound to be heard.

 

The air is chilly and the breeze is unwelcome, prompting you to pull the green cloak tighter around your body. About half an hour into the ride a few drops of rain hit your hands, quickly turning into a heavy and damn near painful downpour, soaking you to the bone despite the protection of the hood.

You ride in it for an hour, rain unrelenting and the occasional gust of wind blowing it right into your face and eyes. You lean down and pet the sopping neck of your horse, sorry you had to ride her out in these conditions.

 

“We’re almost there, cadet. That castle is where our base is!” You look ahead and through the rain you can see the top of a brick castle. It wasn’t fancy or even beautiful, but you didn’t expect much. “That’s going to be your new home!” Hange calls to you, offering a warm smile. You return it, and it’s genuine.

When you finally reach the base there are two other soldiers waiting for you under the protection of a roof. You don’t have to see their faces to know it’s the  _fucking trees._ Section Commander Miche and Commander Erwin.

 

Hange leads you into the stables and you push your hood back, dismounting the mare and ringing your _h/c_ hair of the water soaking it.

 

“So you can ride a horse, I see,” the Commander says from behind you. You turn to him and shrug a shoulder.

 

“Afraid I wouldn’t be much use to you otherwise.”

 

“Maybe as cannon fodder,” Captain Levi taunts, standing next to the Commander with his arms crossed.

 

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring openly.

“While you're under our custody there are some ground rules you’ll need to follow,” the Commander says, ignoring the staring contest you were having with the short Captain. “Curfew is at 10pm and you will be woken up every day at 7am sharp. You aren’t to go anywhere without one of the four of us escorting you for the time being unless given explicit consent to do so. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Your training will begin tomorrow. Commander Hange will have you for the rest of the day.”

 

You nod your head at him before remembering what the book said, what you saw that one guard do where he hit his hand to his chest. You were right to assume it was their salute.

 

Clumsily, you put your right fist over the left side of your chest, left arm pulled behind your back. You weren’t sure if you were going to embarrass yourself by doing so, but the small smile the Commander gave said you did the right thing. With that, he turned to leave, Captain Levi following in suit.

You noticed you hadn’t seen the biggest tree of them all leave, though you knew he came in with the Commander. You turn your head to look for him and are greeted in the form of a long, loud sniff.

You jumped back, finding Miche standing behind you leaned over slightly. When his closed eyes open they find yours instantly, smirk pulling on his lips.

 

“Ugh!” you groan, not bothering to hide your upset or disgust. _"Do you mind?"_ you seethe.

 

“You're quite the spitfire," he tells you, smirking openly. "What are you holding back?”

 

“My fists,” you growl, gritting your teeth. “Keep your nose out of my goddamn space. Are all you _scouts_ perverts?” you spit the word as if it were a swear, which to you it certainly was.

 

He shakes his head. “Just Hange.”

 

“Pfft!” The woman cackles next to you, slapping her hand on her knee. “I’m only a pervert for science! And don’t mind him, he does it with everyone. Can sniff out a lie, that one! Disturbing habits and all, he has good intentions,” she reassures. It doesn’t do much.

You try to keep the disgust on your face to a minimum, but it’s damn hard. First the Commander tugging on your clothes, Captain pulling down your pants, and now the Section Commander back to sniffing at you like a dog.

 

_Starving, I’d rather be starving._

 

Before you can lament your decisions further, Hange speaks up. “Follow me, cadet! Time to show you around our lovely base.”

Hange shows you around, pointing from place to place and occasionally mentioning ‘you aren’t allowed in there’, ‘only go in if someone calls for you’, and ‘not for the time being’. By the time you’re done with the tour the rain was reduced to a light sprinkle.

 

Walking across the base, Hange lets out a loud sigh. “Well I’d say we’re due for a hot shower, wouldn’t you? You can find your way to the barracks, right? I’ll be there in a moment, just going to go find you some dry clothes. Don’t run off, now!”

You nod and watch her as she goes, leaving you standing in the middle of the base. It still irked you a bit that they didn’t trust you, even after you agreed to join their ranks. If they thought no other humans existed you’d think they’d trust you didn’t have ill intentions. Question for another time.

 

In the communal bathroom you quickly scuffed out a towel from a large rack and stripped off the sopping wet clothes from your body, careful around your injured shoulder. The smell of wet horse lingered on your skin, making you move a bit quicker. When you walked past the sinks something caught your eye, turning your head quickly.

You nearly gasped when you saw the mirror, standing turned to it and watching yourself for a moment with wide eyes.

 

It was the first time you were seeing your face, and while you knew it was yours it jarring to be seeing it finally. You walked up to the mirror, turned your chin this way and that, stared into your _e/c_ eyes and examined every inch of your face as though you were going to forget it again if you didn't drink in each detail.

 

Your eyes naturally trailed down to your body and you instantly grimaced.

A lot of the bruises you once had had faded away, but a few of the angrier ones lingered. They mingled with the lines that covered most of your upper body, the telltale signs of your use of the ODMG. The harness you wore having left rather nasty burns on your skin from the chaffing. The straps seemingly tattooed their pattern all along your skin, trailing from just under your collar to the sides of your breasts, waist and to the swell of your hips.

Your right shoulder was still wrapped up from the wound there and you gently peeled back the adhesive holding the bandage in place, disposing of the material in a nearby bin. You almost didn’t want to raise your eyes to it in fear of what you’d see, but you ultimately couldn’t help yourself.

You nearly gasped at the sight. It didn’t look as bad as you had anticipated, though it was still jarring to see your body in such a state. The large gash on your shoulder from colliding with the wall seemed to be healing well, no doubt thanks to the stitches and care Dr. Adams had given you, but it was the nearly black bruise surrounding the entirety of your shoulder that made your eyes widen. It faded into a bright purple and red, spreading onto your clavicle and down to your elbow. You brought your hand to touch the tender area, hissing when you pressed on a particularly sore spot. It would surely take a while to go away, though you were incredibly lucky you hadn’t ripped it from its socket.

 

“You took quite the beating to get here.”

 

You turn quickly at the voice, relaxing when you realize it was just Hange.

She had already taken off her ODM gear and straps and began unbuttoning her pale yellow shirt, stripping herself of her wet clothing quickly. You see the same marks left on her skin from the harnesses, though they were just scars at this point. She catches you staring at them and smiles.

 

“They’ll bruise and blister for a while, but more you use the gear the less it’ll hurt. Eventually your skin just gets tougher. I can’t even feel them anymore, forget they’re there.” She chucks her pants off and laughs. “You aren’t afraid of the ODM gear are you? Because I have bad news if you are.”

You shake your head. You weren't scared of it, but you were still unsure why they wore them inside the walls. “What is the gear even used for? Just to get up to trees and the walls?” You question.

She quirks her head at you, confusion turning to understanding quickly. “Well, you know the scouts leave the walls for expeditions and to scour land, and as you’ve seen we run into titans quite often. In order to kill them we use use the gear to reach their napes.”

“Their napes?” you ask, taking your turn to look confused.

“Ah, there’s so much to teach you,” she laughs. “I can hardly wait! But alas, we can go over it later,” she says, patting your back and steering you towards the showers.

 

You stand under the hottest water you’ve ever felt in your short few weeks of collecting memories and sigh, muscles relaxing under the stream. The shower at the prison was a blessing in itself, but it had nothing on this; the pressure much stronger and water _so_ much hotter.

Hange hands you a jar of shampoo and you disperse it into your hair, tilting your head to the side so your right arm could reach it without aching. You watch Hange as she gets to work on her brown locks, muscular arms and shoulders working quickly. When she turns back around you sheepishly grin seeing that she was already rinsing her hair clear while you were still working on washing your own. She comes up and playfully slaps both your hands away, replacing them with her own.

“My curiosity can get the better of me, so I’m told, but I have to ask. How did you know the walls were safe?” she prods, fingers moving tenderly across your scalp and lathering the shampoo in your hair.

“I didn’t. I’m...still not sure. I just had a feeling. Like something was pulling me towards them, even before I saw them,” you tell her, sentence trailing off. You knew it was silly, but explaining it made you feel stupid.

“You took a mighty big risk all for a gut feeling,” she tells you. You chuckle, having your feelings reassured. “It’s quite a long way from the woods to the wall. Not to mention titan country and flat planes for miles.”

“When I saw the dead bodies, as morbid as it is, I knew I was going the right way,” you admit to her. She gently guides your head back into the stream of the water, washing your hair of the suds with a hum.

“Humans are social creatures. You knew if bodies were around then others would soon be too. Safety in groups and all that,” she supplies for you.

 

You dry off and dress in the dry clothes she had brought with her. Dark grey button down and a pair of the same white pants she and the rest wore. There was even a new cloak, this one a bit bigger than the last.

“We’ll have to wait for the jacket to get here for you, so sorry about that,” she says, towel drying her wet hair.

“You guys really expect me to be a scout?” you ask. She grins, unperturbed by your hesitance.

“We expect you to be a great one,” she tells you confidently.

You wished you held the same faith. In a way it was comforting. Hange was right, there is safety in groups and you felt it. Felt safe around her and the others, in some primal way. All the same it all left an unsettling feeling in your chest. Like a calm before the storm.

 

\--

 

You watched the raindrops slide down a window in the soldier’s office while Hange made you both tea. She returned with a loud bang of the door, handing the steaming cup to you. You thanked her and held it in your cold hands, welcoming the warmth.

“So, cadet. I’ve got a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind,” she says, scooting a chair close to you and sitting in it backwards. “We’re all aware of everything you told Erwin that first day he interrogated you--and please! Don’t think of this as that, you can refuse any questions I ask.” You nod and she continues. “You said soon after you awoke in the field there was a titan near you, staring at you. But it made no move to immediately attack?”

 

“That’s correct.”

 

She smiled wide, a crazed look in her eyes. “Can you pretty please describe the titan to me?”

 

You swallow, shrinking away from her in your chair just a bit. “Uhm. It had huge eyes and smile. Bulging stomach and thin arms and legs. I don’t know how tall it was, but it was pretty big. Maybe 7 meters?”

 

Hange hums, pursing her lips. “Did you happen to encounter any titans that looked maybe female? Or like they had no skin? Maybe one that exhibited intelligence!”

 

You shake your head. “I saw maybe only 15 titans total, though most were at night when they weren’t moving. I didn’t exactly stop to study them past that.”

 

Another hum. “Honestly, it’s a rather great surprise that you were able to make it out there without a horse.”

 

“Hange?” She looks at you, eyebrows raised. “May you ask a few questions myself?”

 

“Oh! Yes, of course. Ask away!” She gives you her full attention, smiling effortlessly.

 

It felt silly, but you didn’t miss the odd looks from the other soldiers as Hange took you around the base. People whispering to each other when you'd walk by, some staring curiously and others going as far as to glare at you. You happily returned the rude looks, but it didn’t leave you feeling any better about the situation.

 

“Does everyone see me as a threat?" you ask.

 

She stares at you for a long while, obviously running her answers through her head while biting the inside of her cheek.  _So it wasn't just my imagination._

 

She finally sighs. “The hole in the wall you saw, the one covered up by the boulder. The dead bodies you came across. A normal titan wouldn’t be able to put so much as a crater in the wall, and they wouldn't have just left those bodies there.” She pauses, looking conflicted. "I can't tell you what kind of titan did those things, not yet at least. Just know that we’ve been dealing with a lot of big fish as of the last five years.” She pushes her glasses to the top of her head, rubbing the spot where they were previously perched on her nose. The look she gives you isn’t judgmental, or even accusing. It’s calculating. “No offense, but it doesn’t feel quite like a coincidence that you showed up when you did. One minute we think we understand something, the next we have a girl crashing into our walls." Hange chuckles slightly, warmth returning to her eyes. "To be frank, dear, you're a reminder of how little we know about this world.”

 

You stare at a spot on the ground, nodding your head in understanding.You couldn’t imagine the frustration they must have felt having been given a puzzle piece only to realize the paint was chipped away on all corners. You weren’t much help to them if you couldn’t remember anything. You were simply a taunt. 

 

Having noticed your withdrawal, Hange laughs and scratches the back of her head. "But don't let that get you down! It's the reason we research and continue to fight! We have so much to learn, from the titans and I'm sure from you! The other soldiers will forget about it here soon enough and you’ll have plenty of time to get chummy with them. You're very likable! Worked your charm on all of us!”

 

You snort at that. “What, with my blatant disrespect for your work?” You stare down at the dark liquid in your cup. “So, what do titans do with the bodies after they kill people? I can’t imagine they bury them or something.” you say. When you’re met with silence you look up from your cup, startling a bit. Hange was watching you with wide eyes, her mouth slightly parted.

 

“You really don’t know?” she seems to ask herself. You shake your head slowly anyway, feeling the dread creep up on you.

 

"Hange?" you ask. It seems to pull her out of her thoughts, blinking once before finally answering you.

 

“Our understanding of the titan’s motives are limited, but. They don't kill people just to kill them. They eat them,” she tells you slowly.

 

You stare at her, stomach twisting painfully. Your breaths were shallow as you sat frozen in the chair, not knowing what to say or do. After a long moment you finally bring your cup of tea to your lips, uncaring that it was burning your mouth. Shaking your head as if to physically clear it you speak again. “Is it too late to go to the firing squad?”

 

It’s only half a joke.

 

 

Hange takes it in stride, laughing heartily. “You reminded me, the talk we had in the showers! We have plenty of time to kill, so would you like to learn more about the Survey Corps?”

 

You nod your head, trying to smile. Wouldn’t hurt to know a few things about the regiment you stupidly agreed to join.

 

Wrong. It was painful.

 

Hange didn’t stop talking, running off on tangent after tangent to inform you in great detail about all they knew in regards to the titans, the experiments she’s run and the experiments she wishes she could run. You listened intently for the first hour or so, gawking occasionally and stopping her a few times to ask a question. During the second hour your back began to ache and rear started to throb from sitting in the hard chair. You watched as the sun began to go down, light fading from the room. Even that doesn’t stop her, soliloquy continuing as she lit a candle.

 

“...regeneration properties for humanity, but- OH! My apologies, dear! Seems I’m starting to repeat myself.”

 

You’re drawn from your daydreaming and look at the Section Commander, pretending to have been listening. “Oh, uh. It’s fine.”

 

“It’s such a relief to know you have a thirst for knowledge, dearie! You’ll be doing a lot of research with me and my team, so just you wait!”

_Oh joyous day._

 

You pray that her team wasn’t as eccentric as she was. Hange stretched her hands over her head, sighing. She digs in her jacket and pulls out a small pocket watch. “Oh, look at the time! Talked right through lunch and straight to dinner. Get some food in you and then report back to me in the Officer’s Building when you're done, okay?”

 

You nod and she stands to leave, but hesitates at the door. She opens her mouth to say something, but stops short. She covers it up with a quick smile before leaving you in the empty room with your thoughts.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yahoo I rewrote this like 3 times i honestly don't even know if it makes sense at this point lmaoo
> 
> there's one version where erwin is evil as shit, but this is the one that felt the most canon while getting the same point across. not that oc erwin isnt evil but thats another discussion for another time
> 
>  
> 
> poor reader. she's really not looking forward to this
> 
> at least she joined the fraction with the best looking men??
> 
>  
> 
> (wall sheena? sina? ? smh yall the inconsistencies)


	4. Did you hit your head when you fell from heaven?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say i obsess way too much over stupid, tiny details but am actively trying to write regardless of them. so if at any point there are things that don't quite line up or plot holes (so long as they aren't huge and glaring), have a little mercy l m a o. best advice for writers is to just write, so that's what i'm trying to do bbg. Anyway, enjoy!!

Dinner was, admittedly, very interesting.

 

You sat alone at one of the tables in the mess hall, stirring around the soup in your bowl. It wasn’t half bad, a little better than what you were served in your cell, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have much of an appetite. It felt like the entire mess hall was staring at you.

 

Because, for the most part, they all were.

 

You glared at a few people who were openly gawking, turning them back around to minding their own business fast. That didn’t do much to stop the whispering though.

 

“... scaled the wall...”

 

“...from Wall Maria…”

 

“...Female Titan?”

 

You rolled your eyes. _There was that ‘Female Titan’ thing again_. You stare at your reflection in the back of the metal spoon. It didn’t sound like a pejorative, though you couldn’t really come up with a better explanation for being compared to a _titan_ of all things. They almost sounded scared to say it, though you figured it was just because they were scared of being overheard. Still, it rubbed you wrong.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

You’re pulled from your brooding and look up to see a girl with reddish brown hair standing in front of you. She had a big goofy grin on her face that just screamed ‘up to something’. _Great, now they’re sending people over here to mess with me._ You simply stared at her, willing her to leave but not having the heart to give her a death glare.

 

“Hi, I was wondering if you wanted t-to uhm,” she began rubbing her hands together anxiously before a look of realization crossed over her features. “To.. Uh, do you speak our...”

 

You raised an eyebrow, now more curious than annoyed. She twisted her lips to one side, obviously thinking something through. She suddenly pointed at your food, smiling wide. You looked down at it and then back up to her. She pointed directly to you next then made a feeding motion, bringing up an invisible utensil to her mouth and biting it.

 

_Lord, what kind of charades?_

 

She pointed behind her and then gave an animated shrug, holding her hands up.

 

_Did she want my food?_

 

You humored her for a second, pointing at the food and then her. She nods excitedly, nearly bouncing with giddy. Whatever, it’s not like you were in the mood to be eating right now anyway. You took the cup off of the tray and slid it over to her. She made no move to grab it, staring at you with question.

 

“What, don’t want to eat after a titan?” You ask her bitterly. She squeaked in surprise.

 

“Woah! So you can speak our--Wait, eat after.. Are you?” She looked around quickly, planting her hands on either side of you on the table. Her face was inches away from yours and you backed up instantly, trying to get away from her. _Yeah, all of the Survey Corps are fucking nuts._ “Are you a titan shifter?!” She whispered hurriedly, eyes wide.

You scrunch your brows at her, now entirely confused. “A _wha-_ ”

 

“Sasha!” Someone called, interrupting you. You both look in the direction it came and saw a kid with a buzzcut scowling at the girl in front of you. _Sasha, huh?_ “Don’t scare the new girl into giving you her food!”

 

“Huh?! I wasn’t!” She denies, standing back up straight. Buzzcut came stomping over, sliding your tray back in front of you with an apologetic smile.

 

“Sorry about her. If you agree once she won’t leave you alone,” he tells you, chuckling. You give a tight grin in response. “She was supposed to ask if you wanted to eat with us, since you’re new and all,” he says, pointing back to a table a few rows away. There were three empty seats among the mostly full table. Almost everyone there was turned around, staring at you.

 

 _And what, get questions and taunts thrown at me the entire time?_ You shook your head, looking away from their stares.

 

“Huh? We aren’t going to be jerks if you’re worried about that. My friend actually really want to meet you,” he offers, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Yeah, Armin’s been asking about you since word got around. He’s shy too, you guys would get along!” Sasha says, clapping her hands together.

 

 _I’m not shy,_ you thought repressing a sigh. You swore you had better judgment at one point, though you supposed you kissed it goodbye when you shook that Commander’s hand. You stood, slowly, grabbing your tray.

 

You waited for the _‘Ha! Just kidding, titan!’,_ but it didn’t come. Not even when you approached the table, buzzcut simply sat you down right next to him, huge smile on his face.  

“Okay, Armin! Here she is!” Buzzcut said, clapping you on the back like you were something to trade off. You didn’t mean to wince when he hit you, but his hand caught right on one of the more tender bruises still healing on your back, forcing a hiss to leave your mouth.

 

“Connie! She just got out of recovery, be gentle!” The blond boy sitting in front of you squeaked, huge blue eyes wide with concern. You tried not to cringe, but the notion that they’d need to be _gentle_ with you was a stab to your pride.

 

“Oh shit, my bad,” the Connie kid says as pulls his hand back from you, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Gosh, some first impressions we’re making over here.”

 

You perk your head up at the new voice, gaze instantly being caught in the greenest irises you’d ever seen. His jaw was sharp and his cheeks held just the remainder of a bit of baby fat in them, giving him a soft edge to his otherwise intense face. Messy dark brown hair looked like there was an attempt made to tame it, but a few stubborn tuffs stuck out disobediently.

 

 _Some first impression indeed, Bright Eyes,_ you thought, watching him while he spoke. “At least introduce yourself before you start assaulting people,” he said, defined eyebrows teetering on a scowl.

 

“Yeah because you’d know all about that,” a guy with two tones of ash blond hair calls snarkily. 

 

Bright Eyes simply rolled his eyes, gaze softening as it fell on you. He raised from his seat slightly to reach his hand across the table at you, wide grin plastered on his face. “I’m Eren.”

 

You stared at his extended hand for a moment and his face faltered ever so slightly. “Does this mean you’re going to assault me?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light and amused while you played off his earlier words. His eyebrows knit before a wash of relief flows over his face, followed by a low laugh. “Not necessarily, no.”

 

The corners of your mouth quirk and you reach your own hand out, matching your grip to his. He sits back in his seat, smile wide and showing off a straight set of white teeth. “So they have a sense of humor where you’re from?”

 

The question makes your eye twitch, but you catch yourself before you can stumble too much. Word of your amnesia must not have gotten around, though you wish it would have if it meant you could avoid the awkwardness. You give him a dismissive ‘I suppose’, hoping he won’t press any further. The blond next to him doesn’t catch the hint.

 

“Where would that be, by the way?” he asks innocently. You nearly sigh. You know it’s only natural to ask questions in order to get to know someone, but unfortunately for you that just meant being reminded of your unforgiving circumstances.

 

“Not sure,” you supply simply.

 

He looks at you quizzically, the expression reminding you of Hange before a soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth. “I’m Armin,” he says smiling. His nose was a little red, eyes big and round. He had soft, feminine features, long golden hair adding to the look.

 

“Pleasure,” you tell him, smiling back.

 

“The girl who tried to steal your food is Sasha.” You look over at her, mouth full of bread as she tried to deny the claim. “I’m Conny! Sorry about hurting you.” You shake your head, telling him it was alright.

 

The group around the table all introduced themselves, levels of enthusiasm varying slightly. Two Tone, Jean, gave you a charming smile, faint blush spread across his cheeks. Followed after was a beautiful girl with light blonde hair, _“I’m Christa, I hope we become good friends!”_ she had told you, smiling sweetly. The freckled girl next to her only offers her name when an elbow to her gut comes. Ymir, she had barked out. It sounded familiar, but in a way you couldn’t quite place.

 

“Oh, and this is Mikasa,” Bright Eyes says, drawing your attention to the girl directly next to you who had yet to introduce herself. Black hair cut just above her shoulder and piercing grey eyes, she wore a red scarf and a blank expression.

 

“Nice to meet you,” you say giving her a polite smile. She doesn't return it, opting to instead nod and stare at you coldly.

 

 _Okay,_ you think, looking down at your food. _Sorry for existing._ You were able to hold Captain Levi’s stare, but this girl? No way, you weren’t about to challenge _that._

 

The group wasted no time welcoming you into the pact, and it was easy to fall into step with them. You figured out the dynamic pretty fast, Jean and Eren being the two hotheads bickering in what you weren’t sure was a playful way or a serious one. Connie and Sasha instigated it and would catch your eye to make a show of stealing food off of the others’ trays. Mikasa and Armin were both pretty quiet, though Armin had piped into the conversation a few times with something smart or witty to say. Ymir and Christa kept to themselves, sitting closely and talking quietly.

 

“Hey, wait!” Sasha says around the food in her mouth, looking at you. “I just realized you never introduced yourself!”

 

You pale, not knowing what to say. She gets bombarded with an elbow in each side, courtesy of the two blonds sitting next to her. Lips tight, a sting of embarrassment in your gut threatening to burn your cheeks. You know you shouldn’t feel any shame in something you couldn’t control, but it makes you worry your lip all the same.

 

“I don’t remember it,” you tell her. Sasha looks confused for a moment, about to ask what you mean, before it dawns on her. She gives you an apologetic look before staring down at her food. The table is silent, the few that picked up on your memory loss giving you sympathetic glances while the others who just figured it out sat quietly, understanding your discomfort.

 

“So,” Jean begins after a moment’s pause, speaking slowly and watching your expression carefully. “You hit your head and lost your memory when you fell out of heaven?”

 

Everyone turned at once, glaring and giving Jean the same incredulous look of _‘did you actually just say that?’_

 

Your eyes widen slightly and despite yourself a smile slipped onto your face. Your mouth opened without permission and a giggle escaped. You covered your mouth with your hand in an attempt to muffle it, but you couldn’t keep it all down. It was like the tension were a coil that had been spun tightly in your stomach, finally snapping and sending you into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Sasha had started laughing watching you lose it, which prompted Connie to as well. Soon enough the entire group had erupted in a frenzy, earning odd looks from the other soldiers than none of you saw or cared about.

 

\--

 

When you find Hange in the Officer’s Building she greets you with several large books in her hands. She smiles at you, brown eyes watching your own flick down to the stack. “So you’ll have something to read! You know, in case you have trouble sleeping or something.”

 

You smile, thanking her for her thoughtfulness and grabbing the heavy books. She guides you out of the building, out into the chilly night. “So, how was dinner? I peeped my head in and saw you sitting alone,” she says, glancing over to you.

 

“It actually went well. I met some of the soldiers. They were really, uh. Pleasant,” you tell her. She beams and puts her arm around your shoulders.

 

“Oh, thank goodness! It’s really important to build relationships with your comrades. They’re the ones who will have your back during expeditions, after all!” You nod, listening to her go on and on about the importance of friendships, which somehow diverged into her talking about if titans were social creatures. You only half listen to her, watching as other soldiers talked among themselves around the base. When the barracks came into view you were thankful. Until she kept walking.

 

“Uh, Hange? The barracks,” you say, voice trailing off as you pass them.

 

“Oh, do forgive me about this! We can’t actually put you in the public sleeping quarters just yet. Just a safety measure, you understand, right?” You nod, though in all honesty you didn’t understand it. “You’ll be sleeping in the dungeon for now.”

 

“The dungeon?” you ask incredulously. _They’re seriously putting me back in a cell?!_

 

“Yeah, promise it’s a lot cleaner than the one you were in before! That pipsqueak cleans anything he can get his hands on.”

 

She takes you down two flights of stairs to a heavy wooden door, the air absolutely frigid. You pulled your arms closely around your body, trying to retain some of your warmth. The brunette leads you down the narrow hall before the cells and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see movement inside one of them. You back up into Hange, her hands coming to pin your arms to your side instinctively, in case you tried to run or attack. Not that she’d think you’d do either, but just in case. She lets up when she sees what caused you to react.

 

“Oh, seems I forgot to tell you!” Hange hits her palm to her head. “Eren, meet your new dungeon mate. Hope you two don’t stay up too late gossiping! 7am sharp, remember that!” She points a finger at you and wags it dramatically. You barely register it, gaze caught by the bright green eyes that were staring at you wide with confusion. Your own face matched his, _e/c_ eyes bulging in their sockets and brows scrunched down.

 

“You two will have plenty of time for introductions, I’m sure. Right this way, hon,” Hange says, gently guiding you past his cell. She opens the iron door diagonal to Eren’s and you walk inside, surveying the space. _At least this cell is bigger? And there seems to be an actual bed in here._ You turn around to her locking you in, calling a ‘be right back!’ as she takes her temporary leave.

 

When her footsteps fade you plop down on the bed heavily and sigh. “Nice to see you again, Bright Eyes,” you say loud enough that you know you’ll be heard. The faint chuckle and rustling of cloth answers your call.

 

“Should I ask what you’re doing down here?” he asks. 

 

“Do you have to? They don’t exactly trust me,” you say, tone bitter. You scrunch your brows, still hugging the set of books closely to your chest. “I’m more interested in what _you’re_ doing here. You looked pretty cozy in your cell.” It’s full of accusation and the green eyed boy heaves a long sigh. You imagine him running his hands through his hair.

 

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to tell you.” There’s a pause and it does little to make you feel comfortable. “I-I didn’t, like. _Do_ anything if that’s what you’re thinking,” he stutters out.

 

“It was."

 

“No! No, it’s not like this is a punishment. My cell isn’t even locked, I-- Hange!” You hadn’t noticed her footsteps return, too busy running over every possible thing Eren could have done to get put down here. “Hange, oh god. I can’t tell her, can I?”

 

“Absolutely not!” Hange’s cheerful voice rang in a singsong.

 

She stopped in front of your door, holding a jumble of cloth in her arms. “Brought you some blankets and sleeping clothes! They looked like they might fit you,” she says, impish smile.

 

When you stand to retrieve the items from her she leans in close, motioning for you to do the same. “He didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispers quietly to you. “Sorry to keep you in the dark, but I’m sure that it won’t be for much longer.” She reached her hand through the bars and ruffled your hair. “Sleep tight, now! Don’t let the titans bite!”

 

She gives you a parting wink before skipping down the hall, stopping in front of Eren’s cell. You don’t see it, but she lifts two fingers to her eyes before threateningly pointing them at the boy. He lifts his hands innocently, giving her a look of ‘what do you expect me to do?’.

 

There was a simple chair and single shelf in the stone room held up by iron chains set securely into the walls. You undress and set your folded your clothes there neatly, tugging on the long sleeve cotton shirt Hange had brought you. It’s a tight fit, though still comfortable. The fabric hugged the contours of your body well. In contrast, the bottoms she gave you were far too big, fabric pooling around your ankles and slipping off your hips despite drawing the string as tight as you could. You wondered if she just grabbed the first two things she saw in the laundry pile.

 

Wrapping yourself in one of the warm blankets you walk to the bars of the cell door, peering out. You can see just part of Eren’s cell from here, and you wonder if Hange might have done this on purpose. To your surprise he’s leaning against the wall directly in your point of view. His arms were crossed like he was waiting for you. Neither of you speak for a moment, staring the other down stubbornly. Eren breaks first.

 

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable at dinner,” he offers, still staring you down. He was obviously treading carefully, which you suppose you should appreciate.

 

“No need. It’s not like you all knew,” you tell him with a shrug. An awkward silence falls on the two of you and you swallow. “Your friends are, uh... Quirky? I liked them, don’t get me wrong but. Yeah, very quirky.”

 

This earns a snort out of the boy, smile settling on his face. “You wanna talk quirks?” Eren challenges, voice rising with amusement.. “Have you _met_ the Section Commanders?”

 

A laugh escapes your mouth and you hold a hand to your lips. "Gods, I was starting to think _I_ was the weird one around them. Did Section Commander Miche ever sniff you?”

 

You can practically see his eyes glowing, smile widening tenfold on his face. “Yes! You know it’s said he can-”

 

“Sniff out a lie!” You both say at the same time, laughing heartily.

 

“Just, whatever you do, don’t ask Hange about her titan experiments,” he tells you, voice as serious as it was going to sound through his laughter.

 

“Where was that advice four hours ago? I wasn’t sure she’d ever stop.”

 

You go on talking like a couple of school children, giggling and snickering until you were in stitches. Eventually, Eren asks rather sweetly if he can sit outside your cell to talk, earning a laugh from you as you give him the go ahead. It felt just like being in the Garrison’s hold again, chatting with the guards for hours on end instead of sleeping. Eren told you stories about his time in training and the friends you met and you swapped rumors and gossip since it was about the only thing you had. You laughed along with him as he spoke, his animated voice perfect for carrying over the humor even in a retelling.

 

He was certainly doing it subconsciously, but you noticed quickly that he was inching himself closer and closer to your cell. Unfortunately, when he realized this himself he apologized and started to scoot back to his original spot.

 

“Wait, Eren,” you called, reaching your hand out. He stared at it with his head tilted while you beckoned him. When he finally complied and was within arms reach you grabbed onto his sleeve and shamelessly dragged him until he was right up against the cell bars. “I’m not some feral animal, you don’t have to keep your distance,” you told him, gigging. Even in the low light you could see the blush spread across his tanned cheeks and neck.

 

“You sure have the strength of one,” he mumbled, making you both crack up again.

 

You sat with your backs against the bars, shoulder to shoulder on your respective sides as you talked. Despite the perpetual cold in the air he radiated warmth like a fire and you gladly stuck close to him because of that. You lean your head against the bars as he spoke, intending to simply resting your tired eyes, but his voice worked like a lullaby calling you to sleep. 

 

Eventually a soft push to your arm rouses you from your accidental slumber with a small start. You turn your cheek, eyes tracing the soft slope of Eren’s nose and the gentle grin pressed on his lips. "You'll be more comfortable in your bed, get some rest," he tells you. You both come to a stand and sleepily smile to each other, exchanging mumbled goodnights. 

 

Retired to your bed, you sigh when your head hits the pillow, out like a light in seconds.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit bright eyes got them heart eyes how cute. we got some fluff ladies and gentlemen!! fluff!! Ya-fuckin-hoo!!!
> 
> so, small disclaimer for future/past chapters: timeline doesn't abide by the manga/anime, obviously, and to add to that the 104th (and reader) are all at least 18 in this story
> 
> just. you know. in case things go somewhere. >,>
> 
> Next chapter: Training w the vets!! Oh fucking BOY i'm excited. I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you so so much for all the love, it means the most to me <3


	5. Snip, Snip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for dark shit in the first half, ends on a cute note tho :3

Your vision was a blurry mess, freezing fingers stiff as they worked without your permission, fumbling across the cold metal buckle keeping the straps held tight across the girl’s chest. Pinching and pulling and tugging relentlessly in an attempt to remove it from her lifeless body.

 

_You have to do it._

 

The boom of a heavy thud off in the distance made you lift your head, breath catching in your throat. Your wide eyes stared off into the dark, shadowed abyss of the forest. You couldn’t see anything past a few feet in front of you, but you didn’t need to to know what it was. What foreboding doom was lurking just out of sight.

 

_You need to hurry! They’re coming this way!_

 

Stiff hands latch onto your wrists, forcing a whimper out of your mouth. You stare at the girl's sickly white face, eyes glassy and sinking deep into her skull. Her face didn't move, not a single muscle twitched, but she didn't have to. Each heavy breath filled your lungs with her fear, the smell rotten and sour. Her anger curled around your bones, threatening to break them like twigs. Every accelerated pump of your heart shot the betrayal she felt through your veins. You could feel every emotion all at once, could nearly drown in it. Her stiff hands were trying to stop your rushed movements, but you fought against them. No matter how badly you wanted to there was no way to stop the frenzied state you were in. Utterly possessed.

 

 _Snip, snip_.

 

“What are you doing?!” she shouted, mouth unmoving but voice ringing loud in your ears. “Please!” she wailed. Flies were gathering on her eyes, in her nostrils, around her ears. “Please, don’t do this!” she begged.

 

_She’s dead! She’s dead! Ignore it and keep going!_

 

_Snip, snip._

 

Her strawberry blonde hair was caked to the side of her head. You wanted to brush the pieces away, sooth her and ask her to be quiet. Tell her it would be over soon. But you couldn’t, not now. You looked back down, unable to keep staring into her face any longer, but something else caught your eye.

 

She was missing her fingers...

 

Right down to the knuckles what should have been long fingers bloodied stumps stood in their wake. How was she holding onto you so tightly? Who would do something like this to her?

 

“You did!” she spat at you. _“You_ did this to me!”

 

You stare wide eyed at her, voice frantic and shouting back. "How would I-"

 

 _Snip,_ _snip._

 

You looked back down. The cold metal you felt wasn't the buckle of her harness, it was a pair of thick medical scissors. You weren't grabbing her straps, you had her small wrist locked tightly in your fist, a thin finger pinched between the two blades. You dropped them both, hands feeling raw like they had been scalded. Her body slumped to the ground, lifeless like a doll that had been tossed carelessly to the side. The ground shook with the weight of the approaching beasts. You wanted the pit in your stomach to swallow you whole, wanted to curl up next to her and allow the same fate to take you. Take away the pain away. It's what you deserved. All you had to do was wait.

_Come on, get up! You can't stay here!_

 

Just a few more minutes. They'd come for you soon. 

 

 

_Get up!_

 

All your sins would be swallowed, devoured with you. 

 

 

“Oi! Get the hell up!”

 

You gasp, opening your eyes to see a blur of black hair in front of your face. Your head rocked back and forth violently as you were shaken. It didn’t stop until you grabbed onto the man’s wrists, pulling them away. As the fear from the nightmare began to fade, the quick rise and fall of your chest slowed considerably. You blinked to expel the sleep from your eyes, staring at the Captain in front of you, his grey orbs watching you like a hawk.

 

Without thinking you brought his pale hand into your clammy palm, holding it gently. Eyes half closed you slid your thumb from the bulge of his knuckle to the edge of his nail with baited breath, praying that they were all there. He tensed at first, about to rip his hand away but ends up sitting perfectly still while you continued your ministrations, watching with curious eyes as you continued along all ten of his lithe fingers, finally slumping your shoulders and sighing when you reached the last one.

 

You let go of the hands, body falling back and hitting the mattress underneath it. You stare up at Captain Levi, one thin eyebrow raised in question. You didn’t offer anything up and instead of asking for you to explain, he simply blurts the first thing that came to mind.

 

“Is that my shirt?”

 

You blink, looking down at the tight nightshirt you were wearing and back at the man, genuinely confused. Pinching the bridge of his thin nose he sighs. “That shitty four-eyes gave it to you, huh?” You look to the side before nodding once. He stands from his perch on your bed and points to the shelf that held your clothes. “Your harness and jacket are there. Get changed quickly, we don’t have all day to wait around.”

 

You give a groggy 'yes, sir', stretching your arms out in front of you. “And unless you want it ripped out I suggest putting that rats nest into something that won’t catch in the ODM wires.”

With that the Captain exits your cell, standing in front of the door with his back turned. You quickly shuck off your clothes and dress in the uniform, the fast movements helping to throw the last bit of sleep from your stiff body. The harness gave you a bit of trouble, but you end up slipping everything on before the Captain could turn and ask what the hell was taking so long. You brush your teeth and attempt to fix your unruly bed head into something appropriate: a rather messy ponytail being all you could manage.

 

When you’re done you clear your throat. Captain Levi turns around and gives you a careful once over, roughly fixing the collar of your shirt before motioning for you to follow him. He’s silent the entire way to the mess hall and you have to struggle to keep up with his surprisingly quick pace. You end up trailing behind him like a lost puppy, rubbing your eyes and yawning. It was going to be a long day.

 

\--

 

When you grab your tray of rations you see Connie waving at you with a wide smile, pointing at the open seat between him and Sasha. You return the grin, walking up to join them for breakfast, though a firm hand grabs your elbow and leads you away from the table right as you reach it. You turn with a disgruntled noise to see the Captain, sneering as he sits you down at an empty table and taking the seat in front of you.

 

“Shut up and eat,” he says.

 

"I didn't even say anything!" you protest. Narrowing his eyes, you decide to keep your mouth occupied with your breakfast instead of letting it go off on an angry rant.

 

You stare out the window to your side for the majority of breakfast, sparing the occasional glance to the man in front of you. He held a tea cup in a way you had never seen someone hold anything before and stared at you unashamed while you ate, not once looking away when you caught his eye. Eventually the cold gaze began to grind your nerves together and you stared back at him as you chewed on your toast, matching his blank look with your own rendition of his constantly bored expression.

 

 _Can’t get mad at me for simply looking at someone,_ you thought smugly.

 

An erroneous assumption.

 

A swift kick under the table had you drop your bread, hands going to cradle your freshly bruised shin with an embarrassingly high pitched yip. His face never changed, sipping delicately on his tea like nothing had happened. When you pull your hands back and set them on the table, you all but sneer at him.

 

“Jeez, _Captain_. Didn’t take you for the type to play footsies,” you bite out at him.

 

Another kick gets delivered to your shin. You groan low, the strike having a little more force put into it and blossoming a fresh wave of pain up your leg. You regain your composure after a moment, sitting up straight and glaring at the older man. “At least buy a girl a drin-”

 

The Captain drives his boot into your shin once more, cutting you off. You drop your head to the table with a thud, eyes closed and silverware clattering from the impact. _Gods, the accuracy of this man!_ He hit the same spot each time, shin screaming at you to _shut the hell up!_ You were sure was going to be a fresh bruise there the next time you looked at it. 

 

You pick your head up and fix him with a _very_ wide smile, low laugh bubbling through your mouth. “You sure are a CHARMER!”

 

You move your legs out of the way just before he can land another blow. His foot instead connects with your chair kicking it, and you in it, backwards. You hit the hardwood floor with a loud bang, breath being nearly knocked out of your lungs. Staring up at the ceiling, it takes you a moment to register what had happened. One look to the spot between your thighs and you were grateful you moved. If the crack in the wooden chair was anything to go by your shin would have been shattered.

 

Rolling onto your side with a low moan and picking your chair back up, you calmly sit back down in it and continue to munch on your toast, pointedly staring anywhere that wasn’t at the man in front of you. Your eyes conveniently catch bright green ones a few tables away. Eren stared wide eyed at you like you had grown a second head. You flick an eyebrow up at him before your eyes roam over to his group; they’re all turned around and staring at you with open mouths. Even the stoic Mikasa looked a bit stunned, arched eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

 

“Finish your food, brat. We need to be out of here and at the training grounds,” the Captain tells you, voice even.

 

\--

 

The Captain doesn’t utter a word before or after you reach the training grounds. Instead he abruptly grabs the strap across your chest, using it as leverage to yank you towards him. Your eyes widen thinking he was going to punch or possibly throw you, instinctively grabbing his wrists and planting your feet firmly into the ground. Instead of hitting you, however, he began to pull the leather straps in his grip tighter across your chest, hands moving with practiced ease across your buckle and jerking your body as he worked. Your hands fall to your side when you realize he isn’t going to intentionally hurt you, a flush creeping along your neck from your reaction.

 

“You should be able to fit two fingers between your body and the harness,” he tells you, tugging on the band roughly. You correct the rest of them, tough leather digging into the soft flesh on your thighs and pulling uncomfortably on your shoulders.  _You could have just told me_ , you thought. The ache from your leg keeps you quiet. 

 

He gave a quick lecture on how to use the gear, most of which you already knew, followed by a crude safety lesson going along the lines of _‘Don’t take your eyes off your surroundings for a fucking second’._ Blunt and straight to the point, that was the Captain for you.

 

“You’re useless if you can’t balance or aim,” he tells you, turning around. “Show me what you learned when you were out there. Shoot your hooks into that tree branch.” He points to a thick branch just a few meters in front of you. You aimed your hips and clicked the first button on both of the handles like you had practiced that first night. They miss, arching down before flying back to your hips.

 

“Try again,” he tells you.

 

 _Miss_.

 

“Again.”

 

 _Miss_.

 

You expect a sigh or some kind of insult, but instead he lays his palm on the small of your back and grabs your jaw tightly with his other hand, forcing you straight as a board. He roughly kicks your feet apart until they’re in line with your shoulders.

 

“Imagine a stick shoved up your ass holding your head and hips together,” he says calmly. You stare wide eyed at him, swallowing back a snicker. _So that’s why you’re so grumpy._ Your shock goes unnoticed, the man continuing. “You wouldn’t be able to shift your head without moving your hips, right? So move them like they’re connected. Bend your knees to get a further range,” he instructs, lightly tapping the back of yours with his hand. You nod, biting your cheek.

 

 _Okay. Stick in my ass connected to my head. Wonderful visual._ You tilt your hips up, following your head. When you felt like you had the right angle, you pull the triggers. The grapples hit right where you meant them to and you smile. He doesn’t give you so much as a second to be proud before grabbing your arm and leading you underneath the branch.

 

“Now slowly pull the second button. Don’t slam on it and don’t hit your gas. Only go until you’re barely off the ground.”

 

You follow his directions, balancing on the tips of your boots. He takes the device from you before he speaks again. “I’m going to lift you just a few inches at a time. If you start to lose your balance do your best to fall on me.”

 

You quirk an eyebrow at him and he challenges it with a deadly glare. You pick your battle and avert your gaze, focusing on a tree in the distance instead. The pull around your hips is gradual but strong, toes hovering above the ground a good ways. You wobbled at first but found your center quickly, legs bent and posture straight.

 

“Stay like that for a few minutes,” he tells you. You sigh, kicking your legs to swing yourself slightly on the wires. You stared at the Captain’s profile for a lack of anything better to do. Impossibly pale skin seemed to glow under the early sun, his pitch black hair still slightly damp from a morning shower. Grey gaze pointed off somewhere in the distance, you imagine he’d start a forest fire with how intensely he was staring at the trees.

 

A gust of wind blows, carrying a nip to it and pulling a shiver out of you. It must be getting close to fall; the leaves on the trees and grass still a lush green but the fluctuating temperatures telling you it was past the scorching dry heat of summer.

 

“What if I’m shit with the gear?” you question, not wanting to sit in the uncomfortable silence for much longer. His cat-like eyes shoot over to you, a thin eyebrow raising.

 

“We’d do what we would with any recruit who can’t use them,” he says with a shrug. “Ship them back to where they came from.”

 

You roll your eyes at him, smirking. “Aren’t you already going to do that?”

 

The wires holding you up detach suddenly, sending you to the ground with a thud. You look up at the Captain, his hard eyes staring down at you. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, you insubordinate brat.”

 

When he turns his back, you do just that.

 

\----

 

Moving from tree to tree was easy thanks to the practice you had in the forest. It was the gas that made you nervous. Despite his instructions on how and when to use it, you had stalled twice; momentum ruined and body being jerked around painfully by the cords. Dangling upside down the third time you had been flipped, Captain Levi had to come untangle your leg from the wires. “Next time it’ll be from your neck, useless brat,” he chided.

 

Encouragement wasn’t his strong suit, though it seemed as though his angry threats and insults were your perfect catalyst. Before long you couldn’t imagine _not_ using the gas. It gave so much height, speed, and, surprisingly enough, control. The Captain didn’t look too impressed when you had managed to fly past him, but his face never seemed to stray too far on the positive side of the expression-spectrum.

 

Your final task of the day’s training was to race a circle around the forest in under 10 minutes. It was only a mile, probably the easiest thing the Captain would have you do yet, but you were determined to excel. If he wanted three minutes you were going to give him two. You had your fingers on the triggers ready for him to give the go ahead, eyes trained ahead of you. He watched a few seconds tick by on his pocket watch before shouting ‘GO’ and taking off on his own wires.

 

You lept off the branch you were haunting and fell freely through the air, stomach in your throat the entire way down. Ejecting your hooks at the last minute you allowed the gas to throw your body forward, feet grazing the blades of grass below. Stay strands of hair lashed behind you as you flew, wind nipping at your face. Things seemed to slow when you’d release your hooks at the apogee of your flight, limbs weightless for those few short seconds as you were detached from everything. No wires to hold you up, nothing under your feet. You were floating through the air. You couldn’t fight back your smile even if you wanted to.

When gravity started to pull you back down you squeezed the trigger again, hooks flying out and finding purchase on another set of trees. Your body twisted naturally between them, legs directing your weight on the wires and laughter spilling from your lips.

 

The Captain flew below you a few meters away, body moving swiftly and effortlessly as though his wires were just an extension of his body. The way he seemed to dance between the trees had you awestruck, wondering how long it took him to get so good. You tried not to let him distract you too much, occupied with dodging branches that were just begging for you to lose focus so they could rip into you, but you couldn't help the stolen glances. It was a wonder how neither of you noticed the other's stares, considering the Captain was turned around just as much as he was facing forward. He told himself it was because he needed to assess you for strengths and weaknesses, but even he conceded if that were really the case he’d have just lagged behind you, watched from a safe distance.

 

No, he had his reasons for sticking in front of you. His watchful gaze was less about the way you were moving and more about the look you had on your face. He almost felt nostalgic watching the dumb smile spread across your face. How he felt when he first started using ODM gear in the underground.

You were moving almost as fast as he was, nearly matching his speed. He wasn’t going as fast as he could have, but any time he sped up a little you were right there with him. It lacked refinement and you were quickly running your gas supply down, but you got close enough at times that he was able to clearly make out the color of your irises being swallowed whole by your dilated pupils.

 

All too soon you were tightening your wires, slowing down your descent towards the front of the forest where Captain Levi had touched down only a few seconds before you. When your feet touch the ground it's a perfect transition from air to land, walking the few paces it took to stand before the Captain with a small skip in your stride.

 

“Not bad,” he says after a quick glance at his watch. Without another word he's already turned around, setting a brisk pace back to the base. You’re stunned stiff for a moment before a wide smile split onto your face. Coming to a jog to catch up with him, you beam. “Is that your way of saying good job?”

 

He clicks his tongue. “It’s my way of saying I expected you to eat shit on the landing.”

 

You laugh lightly. “Thanks, Captain,” you tell him. It doesn’t hold any sarcasm in it like he had expected. He watches you out of the corner of his eye. A ridiculously dopey smile was plastered on your face, _e/c_ eyes looking a million miles away. A stark contrast from the state you were in just hours ago. Curled up in a ball, thrashing and whimpering in your sleep.

 

If this was how you were going to act after every run with the ODMG then the stoic man could almost let it slide that he was tackling extra paperwork because of it.

 

Almost.

 

A light smack to the back of your head makes you blink, looking to the man in question indignantly. He’s staring ahead of you, expression his neutral boredness.

 

“Daydream on your own time, dumbass, and especially not while you’re using your ODM gear,” he chides, no real malice in his words. “You’ll be gift wrapped lunch for the titans if you do that on the field. So wipe that smile off your face and go run laps until Miche gets here to take over babysitting.”

 

You roll your eyes and skip ahead of him, turning on your heel and giving him your least-serious serious face, mock salute held up.

 

“Roger that, Captain.”

 

You jog away before he can deal another blow to you, one with more force put behind it. He settles on muttering about how insufferable you are under his breath. The corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly while he does.

 

\--

 

  
Levi leans on the large wooden door of Erwin’s office, ankles crossed and hands in his pocket. “She’s a quick learner,” he says. “Quite the headache, though.”

 

Pen scratching across his paperwork, Erwin doesn’t look up as he speaks. “When do you think she’ll be ready?”

 

Boots clicked as the shorter man approached the desk, sighing. “Does that matter? She’ll go if we deem her ready or not.” Folding his arms, Levi looks out the window behind the blond man. He could see you run your laps from here, watching as you sprinted around the base. “We’re shoving three years of training into a little more than a month. We’ll work with what we can get.”

 

“Remind you of someone?” Erwin muses, finally looking up from his paper. He turns his head to see where the grey gaze was pointed, watching you from the window. As you were coming up on another lap you slowed down, looking from side to side before coming to a crouch. Erwin raises an eyebrow as he watches you extend your hand to an unseen figure.

 

“I had discipline. That,” he points out the window at you, finger hovering just over the glass so not to smudge it. A stray cat peaks its head into their line of sight, cautiously moving towards your beckoning hand. “That is not discipline. That’s an insubordinate brat waiting to get her ass kicked. Potential or not.”  

 

Walking a few steps closer to you the grey cat stretched and plopped its body down. Even from across the expanse of the castles courtyard the two men could see the grin on your face, mouth moving slightly to coo at the creature as you scratched its head. “We’re too pressed for time to focus on minor details. Punish her how you see fit if she acts out of line, but don't expect a groomed soldier." Erwin turns his head to the side slightly. "There’s more than just potential there. You can see it, too.” It's not phrased as a question because it isn't one. Gunmetal eyes watch him out of the corner of dangerous slits.

 

“Quite the assumption, even for you, Commander.” The title is laced with a lilt of mockery.

 

An amused smirk plays on Erwin's lips. “If you didn’t she would have had a far worse lashing than just a few kicks under the table, no?” He turns back to his paperwork, pen returned to marking up papers. “Unless you’ve grown soft, Levi. I’ve yet to hear of someone challenging you and walking afterwards.”

  
  
With a low growl threatening to bubble from his throat, the Captain turns away from the window. He wants to ask how the other man knew about the incident from that morning, but was too annoyed to give it much more than a passing thought. "That sounds like a challenge, Erwin. Wouldn't do morale any good to have a Commander crawling on all fours, wouldn't you agree?" Purposeful strides are made to the door. "Stupid brat is gonna catch flees," he grumbles, leaving the blond Commander to chuckle to himself, turning back around to watch out the window with an amused gaze as Levi stomped his way over to you.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe I hope you liked this chapter! It's on the shorter side (i think) because I split the full chapter up into two. Next up is Miche and Hange yeeee
> 
> Anyway, after reader's 'training arc' (as i'm calling it) the plot picks up rather quickly, so for now enjoy the cute antics with an occasional splash of darkness >:3 [i'm SOO excited to reveal reader's past to you aHH i wish i could post the flow charts and notes i have written down bc it's kinda ridiculous] 
> 
> per usual comments make my heart soar and you can /always/ message me directly on my [my Tumblr](https://cutiepiejane.tumblr.com) 🖤
> 
> see y'all soon


	6. Busted Knuckes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rewrote this chapter 5 times. Five. Fucking five.  
> This also started as a nice 4k chapter but when I did my read-through I just kept adding to it so uh. Enjoy your 7k words lmfao cheers.

You shake your hair from its ponytail to rub at the tender spot on the back of your head. The overgrown tree chuckles lowly next to you, muted green watching you out of the corner of his eye. You catch his gaze as you tug the strands loosely back behind you, fastening them in a low bun angrily.

 

“Is something funny, sir?” you ask, half glaring at him.

 

The Section Commander had arrived to train you just as Captain Levi was finishing giving you a tongue lashing, ending it with a sharp open handed smack to the crown of your head. He hadn’t taken too kindly to your ‘slacking off’, and you hadn’t taken too kindly to him scaring off your new friend, still staring off in the direction the grey ball of fluff had run off to. You bit back engaging in a shouting match with him, one you knew you would lose, opting to instead give him a pissed off salute and false promise that it wouldn’t happen again. It would, you just needed to decide if you wanted to rub it in his face or be strategic about it.

 

Miche pulls the corners of his lips down and shrugs a shoulder to feign nonchalance to your question.

 

  
\--

 

A quick introduction to his squad was in order when you meet up with them, polite and curt nods passed around as you try to remember their names.

 

Miche didn't offer any explanation as to why you were  _'Cadet. Just Cadet'_  , earning slanted heads and curious glances that you couldn't help but bite your lip at to hold down a smirk. If it weren't for the giant's gentle tone and to the point way of speech you would have been incredibly uncomfortable, but he made it work in your favor by absorbing the awkwardness for you. 

 

"We're practicing horseback maneuvers and formation outlines, everyone will be expected to run as though it were an expedition. Give your best effort out there for the new recruit, not that I'd expect anything less. Understood?" A synchronized 'yes sir' buzzes from the group as they all turn and make their way to the stables. All but one. Miche turns to you, nodding once. "Nanaba will be in charge of ensuring you understand the formations and are adjusting to your spot well. She'll be acting as your superior and teacher for now." 

 

The tall woman approaches you with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you, Cadet," she says, offering her hand. The deep timbre of her voice was calming and a pleasant drum on your ears. You falter for only a moment before shaking her hand back, smiling warmly and giving a 'likewise'. She nods her head for you to follow her to the stables where she instructs you to ready a horse for your training. You tried not to look too eager, but couldn’t help but race to the stall of the horse you had ridden on the day before, peaking in and seeing the chocolate mane and a shiny coat.  

 

“Hi, nice to see you again,” you whispered to the mare, gently rubbing your hand down her soft neck. You positioned the saddle on her back, hands working quickly along the straps to fasten it in place and ready her stirrups with ease.

 

Your first lesson with Miche and his squad was horseback riding and familiarizing yourself with riding in a formation and the specific breed they used out in the field. Observing and taking note on how the rest of the squad functioned together while practicing at a slower pace to understand the inner workings, you rode through the forest around the base you had just practiced your ODM gear in and watched as the squad effortlessly transitioned from horseback to their wires, jaw hung open at the display. Nanaba lightly chuckled next to you, smiling proudly at her comrades. 

 

"You'll be expected to do the same, though we'll take it slow for now," she tells you, pulling on her reigns to bring her horse to a trot. "We'll work on steadying your balance on top of a horse's back."

 

You nodded. It didn't look easy, and it certainly wasn't. 

 

You were frightened the entire time that your horse would be upset with the jostling on her back and just buck you off, but she remained compliant the entire time, even when you came crashing down with your butt to the saddle.. Several times. The soft movements and curve of a saddle was not the same as launching off of solid ground, not to mention using the ODM gear was physically straining. Your muscles were tight and your core was burning from flying through the woods with the Captain, add the bruising soreness in your thighs and arse from the constant abuse you were putting them through from horseback riding and you were certain to be spent for the day. You stumbled and nearly fell several times before you could transition with shaky hands from the horse to one of the trees, Nanaba giving you warm encouragement and advice the entire time.

 

You nearly sighed when Miche called it good, turning to the blonde woman next to you with a relieved smile which she returned warmly.

“That was rather impressive,” she tells you as you walked side by side, guiding your horses back to the stables. You turn to her with a bemused look, unsure exactly what she could possibly be talking about. She clears it up for you quickly enough. “It usually takes some time before the horses warm up to a new rider, but this one seems to like you plenty. She'll make training a lot easier for you, I'm sure.”

 

You give her a nod in thanks, reaching up to stroke the mare’s neck. “Thanks for putting up with me, I’ll slip you some carrots if I can,” you whisper to her when Nanaba was a safe distance away.

 

After you had finished removing the accessories on your horse you go about gently removing the dirt and dander from her coat with a brush you had found in the small shed where they kept the horse tack. You cooed at her softly as you worked, hands moving skillfully over her large frame as you lost yourself in the motions. 

 

 

“Talk to animals often?”  

 

You jerk at the sudden sound, thankfully out of sight from the horse least you startle her. You turn to meet the deep voice that had spoken, wide eyes narrowing when you saw who it was.  Section Commander Miche stood with his thick arms crossed over his broad chest, smirking at you.

 

“They don’t talk back, I hope,” he says with a slight tilt of his head. You turn your cheek, giving a few final swipes to the horse before approaching the man. He towers over you, incredible height forcing you to crane your neck in order to speak to his face and not his chest.

 

“Just the bloodhound it seems, sir,” you say with a sardonic smile as you carefully slide past him to return the brush. He chortles as he follows behind you.

 

“Hand to hand combat is next,” he tells you. “We better make our way to the field quickly.”

 

You quirk your head to the side and glance at him over your shoulder.

 

“Hand to hand?” you ask, crossing your own arms and leaning on a hip. “Why practice that, I thought this training was supposed to help me when we go outside the walls.”

 

He lets out a chuckle through his nose and shakes his head, sandy fringe swaying with the movement. “Hand to hand hones in on your coordination and dexterity. Both important for fighting the titans. And besides,” he takes a step closer to you. You hold your ground, staring up at him. “With a mouth like yours you better be prepared to take someone down.”

 

\--

 

When you reach the dirt field his squad is there training already tossing each other, throwing and blocking punches. A couple spared you a quick glance but the rest continued to tear apart their opponent with a savage grace.

 

“Who’s my partner?” you ask, looking out at the group. 

 

Miche removes his tan jacket to reveal the rather tight olive green V neck shirt underneath, fabric stretching across the valleys of his well defined chest and showing off the large muscles of his thick arms. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, flicking up to his face to see him smirking at you.

 

“I am.”

 

You swallow. Eren told you Miche was boasted as the second best soldier in the Survey Corps, though you questioned how training with him was going to do you any favors. He could accidentally crush you like a bug if he wasn’t careful. You swallow your apprehensions, taking your own jacket off and rolling the sleeves of your button down to your elbows.

 

“Get in your stance,” he tells you.

 

With a bit of hesitation you bend your knees to a slight crouch, fists brought up to eye level, shoulders and elbows slightly loose. You wanted to say you were just mimicking the stances you saw from his squad, but the movements felt cooly familiar. He mirrors you, crouching lower so that he’s eye level with you.

 

“Experience fighting?” he asks. You wish you could say no, but your body was telling you the opposite. Though you couldn't be for sure, so you answer most honestly.

 

“I have no idea,” you confess. Though if you were going to survive sparring with this big ass tree you could only hope you had a few survival techniques up your sleeve.

 

He quirks a brow at your answer before returning to his neutral expression. “Throw a punch, then. We’ll see what you know.”  

 

With a bit of reluctance, you throw your right fist at him, aiming for his nose. Before you can even fully extend your arm he grabs you by your wrist, stopping you promptly. “Not with this one. Only to block.” You frown at him.

 

“I’m right handed,” you argue. He simply shakes his head patronizingly.

 

“Work on the dexterity of your left. You’re still not fully healed.”

 

 _Refrain from throwing punches for another week,_ Dr. Adams had told you only a day prior. Oh if he could see you now. It dispels some of your annoyance; you would rather follow his order than someone else's, for some reason. Maybe you had a problem with authority, or maybe you just got off on the wrong foot with the male officers, because you can’t help twist your lips at him.

 

With your left hand this time, you reel it back and shoot it forward, aiming for the same spot. He backs up with a smirk just before it connects, nodding once.

 

He quickly ran through some basic fighting techniques with you. How to jab, swing, block, where to hit and how to take someone down. You took great pleasure in landing a few harsh fists into Miche’s gut, though his rock hard stomach makes it feel more like you were punching the ground. He doesn’t so much as budge from his spot despite how much you tried.

 

Unlike the Captain, Miche wasn’t shy about praising you when you had done something right. You felt oddly familiar with all the moves you learned and landed, similar to the way you felt when you first rode the horse or read the bottle to Dr. Adams. Hesitant at first but picking it up like you had never forgotten. Seemed another thing you had stored in the mystery of your memories was at least some prior training in hand to hand. Why you would need this, though, you were unsure. Pasting together all the small puzzle pieces you had gathered about yourself, everything seemed to contradict the last idea you had. You were good with animals, horses in particular, so you must have lived on a farm or perhaps raised stallions. But you had a good education and manners that you often liked to ignore, was good in conversation. This might appoint you to having lived a life in the upper class, but you knew you were far from an aristocrat. You were crude and foul mouthed; certainly not ladylike. You'd go as far as to say you had a short temper, even, but also a kind heart. Deep down, at least. It all then begged the question what kind of life did you lead that led to all of these odd traits mingling together?

 

What kind of life lead to you being somehow in titan territory, fending for yourself with no knowledge about humanities apparent number one threat?

 

In your thoughts you don't register the fist flying to your face before it's too late to block it, instead scrunching your eyes closed and bracing for impact. It doesn't connect, though, stopping just short of giving your jaw a realignment. Miche raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn't say anything on the matter. He stands from his crouch with a nod.

 

“I want you to try to take me down,” he tells you bluntly. Your eyes widen at him slightly.

 

“You’re twice my size, how am I going to manage that?” you ask, not bothering to mask the dubious look on your face.

 

Miche sniffs twice, a smirk dancing on his lips. “You can. Just match that bite to your bark, princess.”

 

Your lips curl back both at the name and the action, sneering at him. 

 

He regains his stance and starts to slowly circle you. You follow his lead, feet feather light as they touch the ground and snaked around your ankles.

 

You felt like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.

 

Or rather a mouse ready to stupidly pounce a bear.

 

Without warning he lunges forward and you pivot your entire body to the right, barely missing his hands. Landing a firm kick to his side you relish in the short grunt it causes. He tries to grab you, but you use your size and speed to slip away from him, if only by a hair.

 

As you pace around each other you try to think of a way to get him down. Every time you tried to execute one of the moves he showed you he rejects it, turning it around on you. If he was just going to teach you moves he knew how to break, why pretend like you had a chance?

You stared at his focused green eyes, a light shine of sweat forming on his brow. At least he was getting a little worn out by this. You didn't even want to know what you looked like, already panting. You could feel untamed hairs sticking to your forehead, perspiration causing a chill to run down your back any time the crisp wind blew. 

 

While your brain pulled blanks on how to successfully throw a man easily over a foot taller and probably 100 pounds heavier than you to the ground, your body practically worked on its own accord to carefully block his punches and throw its own. Your muscles knew more than you did, that much was for sure.

If you trusted your body then this could work out for you. A risky bet, sure, but your arms had been sore even before you starting sparring, taking the brunt of all his punches was only adding to the inevitable full body ache you were sure to have tomorrow. Even if he was holding back.

 

Deciding you needed to act quick, you don't put any thought into your move, clearing your head as best you could. His green eyes follow you closely as you attempted to land a harsh punch to his gut, large arm swinging around to hit the side of your head in its undefended state. In a blur you duck under it and spring yourself forward, wrapping your left arm around his neck and your right underneath his extended arm, forcing it up with your hands clasped firmly together. Your feet weren't even touching the ground, but your boot hooked around the back of his knee, forcing it to collapse and him to wobble. He attempts to regain his balance, but ultimately hits the dirt with a heavy thud, grunting when your hip lands harshly into his side.

 

You’re grateful he can’t see your eyes from this position, because they’re as wide as they’ve ever been, heart thrumming loudly in your ear as you try to make sense of what just happened.  _You took him down, that's what happened!_

 

He struggles beneath you and you squeeze your arms tighter, pushing your shoulder into the side of his neck to cut off blood flow.

 

“How’s that for bite?” you snarl into his ear, triumphant words masking your near debilitating shock. He lets out a choked noise and you immediately let up off of his throat, rolling off of him and coming to your feet. Your chest was rising and falling in quick successions, hand coming to wipe at the accumulation of sweat on your forehead. When you look down at him his eyebrows are shot to his forehead, a large hand absentmindedly rubbing at his throat. His lips split into a wide, unnerving grin.

 

“You look awfully excited for someone on his back,” you say, offering your hand to help him up. He accepts, though doesn’t put any weight on it to stand.

 

“I didn’t teach you that move. Never seen it, actually,” he says. The question is there even without him needing to ask it. You scratch the side of your head, looking away. You notice a few stares pointed in your direction and instead find the dirt on your boot far more interesting.

 

“Wish I could say I knew where I learned it,” you tell him, laughing mirthlessly under your breath.

 

Miche nods, silently taking a few deep inhales that could easily be masked as pants from the exercise. He understood your discomfort when it came to talking about your memories, didn’t want to press you on the matter. Instead he walks over to his jacket and pulls out one of the wooden daggers a few of the soldiers around you were practicing with.

 

He focuses on going over a few basic moves for disarming someone, having you repeat them on him several times. Two practice rounds and then two faster ones for each move before the true test.

 

The objective was simple: disarm him and you’d be free to go to lunch. Any time he ‘killed’ you you’d have to restart. Easy enough, you had no trouble with evading the moves in the practice runs. The only problem being now that Miche knew you could hold your own he held back less. The prop was made of wood, but when he forcefully dug it into your arm or the soft flesh of your stomach it still hurt like a bitch.

 

\--

 

You were tired, your knees shaking and threatening to buckle underneath you. You didn't think you had ever needed a shower so badly in your life, and your stomach was knotting together in protest of the lack of food in it. The only thing keeping you from sating your needs was the big ass giant looming over you. He had your right arm pinned behind your back while your left held his wrist in a death grip, the wooden dagger inches away from your throat aching to press into you. It was uncomfortable to say the least, your entire arm shook from keeping his hand away with brute strength. You knew he was still holding back, he could easily overpower you by now, but for some reason he was keeping you there, putting just enough force for your muscles to scream. The rest of his squad had already been dismissed long ago, it was only the two of you in the field. 

 

You grunted, your back pressed against his firm chest, hand threatening to slip off his wrist from the sweat slicking both of your skin. He leaned his head down so his mouth was next to your ear, warm breath blowing the loose strands of your hair past your cheek.

 

“You'll hurt yourself if you keep going like this," he tells you, deep voice perfectly even. It sounded like he hadn't lifted a finger this entire time, but the sweat practically gluing the two of you together said otherwise. "Yield and I’ll let you go,” he offers.

 

The words make your teeth clench to the point of them grinding painfully together. He can surely hear it if the chuckle was anything to go off of. Arms pushing against you further, the dagger just barely kisses the skin of your neck.

 

"Yield," he says firmly, squeezing the arm behind your back a bit tighter and eliciting a small whine from you. The amount of control he had over himself was impressive to say the least. He was just dancing on the edge of pulling your arm out its socket, but he wasn't pressing it past that line.  

 

“Not a chance,” you spit with a dark laugh. In a desperate attempt to salvage both your pride and shoulder you throw your head forward and then back quickly. It collides with what you hoped was his nose.

It's a dirty move but has the desired effect, his grip on your hand faltering a fraction. It’s enough for you to slip out of his hold. Grabbing the wrist with the dagger you force it down with all your fleeting strength, knee hitting the hilt of the prop and sending it flying away from the both of you.

 

As soon as it’s gone you bend over with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. He gives your back a soft pat, grunting ‘good job’ with a wet sniff. You knit your brows, turning around to face him.

A thin trickle of blood was spilling down his nose and over his lip, fingers pinching to keep the flow to a minimum. You straighten up instantly, eyes widening. “Shit. I didn’t mean to-,” you start, cut off by a shiver shooting up your spine and forcing your breath out of your lungs. A hand comes out to clutch at the side of your suddenly throbbing head, eyes squeezing shut. It felt like you had gotten hit with an iron pole, ears ringing and vision blurring.

 

_The pop of a broken nose, blood smeared on your fist. Skin split open over your knuckles and the sound of a deep chuckle_

 

_“Don’t get too eager, newbie. There are better ways of going about this," a gruff voice tells you._

 

_The weight of something heavy and cold pressed into your hands. Faint, muffled screaming._

 

A warm hand drops onto your shoulder, making you jump but bringing you back to reality. You blink a few times and look up to Miche, his nose still dripping blood. You stare down at your trembling hands, turning them around. They were a little tender but not a trace of crimson on them.

 

When you meet Miche’s green eyes again they’re silently asking the same question running through your head. _What just happened?_

 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to actually hurt you,” you rush out. Your breaths were coming in quickly, but it had nothing to do with the physical exertion, heart drumming just on the edge of alarming. He shakes his head, brows drawn together.

 

“It happens. Doesn’t feel broken,” he says, tapping the bridge with his free hand before wiping at his nose. The blood smears to the side, stream slowing quickly. “Is your head alright?” he asks softly. 

 

You swallow thickly. You had no idea what took over you, but it left a boulder of unease in your stomach. “My head's fine,” you finally say, a bit quicker than you'd like. 

 

He frowns at you, obviously not convinced. He doesn't press, instead squeezing your shoulder tighter before letting go. Your arm felt numb when his hand dropped from it. “Go wash off then head to lunch. You’re burning my nose,” he says with a small smile.

 

You nod, wordlessly grabbing your jacket and rushing off to rinse off all the filth on you.

 

\--

 

The Corps shut off the hot water between certain hours of the day, but you wouldn’t have used it anyway. You needed the freezing water to clear your thoughts. It felt good to scrub your skin raw under the near painful stream, skin pink and tender to the touch. You didn't pay any mind the bruises blossomed under your skin, didn't let up on the particularly sore spots either.

 

While your head no longer throbbed the voice you heard was still as clear as day, ringing through your head. It felt so familiar. Like reliving something. You closing your eyes and sighing deeply into the empty room.

 

Whatever it was you just hoped it wasn't anything more than a lingering nightmare. Maybe you had really exerted yourself, overheated and overworked your body. You just hallucinated something from your exhaustion. You didn't want to entertain the idea that it might be a-

 

No. No, you'll think about that later. When you see Hange, surely. Not right now. 

 

You stayed under the frigid stream until you couldn’t take it any longer, hands shaking to turn the tap off.

 

\--

 

You got to the mess hall late, hair haphazardly towel dried and sticking to your night shirt. It was the only other one you had, so you had to switch into it until laundry day. You could ask Hange for another one, but the prospect of getting more of the Captains clothes kept you from doing so.

 

Almost immediately when you sit down next to Sasha you’re met with half shouts.

 

“Man, I thought the Captain might have murdered you when it didn’t look like you were going to show,” Connie says, laughing loudly.

 

“Yeah, we were worried!” Sasha tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder. Their enthusiasm and rowdy behavior was hard to fight against, and you really didn't have the heart to. You were already feeling better, the funk you were in pressed down in the wake of their lightheartedness. You shake your head, smiling at the brunette next to you.

 

“I was just sparring with Miche, it took a little longer than anticipated,” you say, dipping your spoon into your potato soup. “Why would the Captain murder me?” you ask around a bite of bread, forcing out a chuckle.

 

“You’re kidding, right? With the way you were taunting him at breakfast?” Connie asks. You shrug. “Honestly, how are you _alive_ right now? I know you’re not from around here, but anyone with eyes can tell Captain Levi is not someone to mess with!” he all but shouts, almost proud look on his face.

 

From across the table Eren nods, staring at you with wide eyes. “That is not someone you want on your bad side.”

 

“Woah, woah," a blond man starts from a few seats down. You hadn’t seen him before, were sure you would have remembered his incredible stature. _Another tree_ , you think. "If she can survive to tell the tale about sparring with Section Commander _Miche_ I don’t think _she’s_ someone I want on my bad side.” The table collectively nods before Armin squeaks in front of you, face going beet red. You quirk an eyebrow at him, about to ask what was wrong when a low voice speaks from behind you.

 

“She’s not.” You don’t need to turn around to see that it’s the Section Commander standing there. You roll your eyes. “Smart of you to make friends with her,” he says putting a  hand on your shoulder. You look up at him, an eyebrow still quirked. “When you’re done here I want you to check in with the infirmary. Don’t linger.”

 

You nod, turning back to your food. You can practically feel the smirk he's giving when he pats your still damp hair, your hand coming out to swat him away, frowning as he leaves you to eat.

 

The table is silent for a few minutes. Long enough for you to look up from your food to inquire about it. Everyone was staring at you once again, eyes the size of saucers.

 

“What?” you ask, pushing your food around on your plate.

 

“You just swatted an Officer’s hand,” Eren says slowly.

 

“An Officer just patted your head,” Sasha adds.

 

 _“You’re invincible.”_ Connie whispers, grabbing onto your arm and shaking it.

 

You roll your eyes. “You're being dramatic, don’t you think?” you ask, shoveling soup into your mouth. Nothing you did seemed that peculiar, you really didn't understand why they were acting like you just called the Commander a sissy. 

 

“Whatever you say, oh Mighty One,” Armin says, smiling at you.  

 

\--

 

When you’re done with your food you toss Sasha the leftover bread and hand the tray over to the kitchen. Just as you’re out the door, you hear a ‘Hey!’ being called behind you. Turning, you see Eren jogging to catch up to you, a small smile on his face. 

 

“Everything alright?” you ask, stopping to wait for him to catch up to you. 

 

“Yeah, I just, uh. Thought you’d like someone to walk you to the infirmary,” he offers shyly, hand motioning in front of you and then moving awkwardly to rub the back of his head. He doesn't meet your eye, turning his head to the side in an attempt of indifference. You smile back at him, laughing lightly. 

 

“Sure thing, Bright Eyes.”

He perks up at you words, chucking lightly and walking by your side. The infirmary was on the other side of the base, closest to the training grounds for obvious reasons. Miche told you not to linger, but there’s no harm in having someone escort you, surely. Even if you had slowed your pace a touch.

 

“You looked really tired is all, I didn’t want you, uh. Not making it,” he offers lamely as you stroll. You snort.

 

“You don’t need an excuse to walk with me,” you tell him with a playful bump to his shoulder. “I like your company.”

 

If you had been looking at him you would have seen the fierce blush gracing his tanned cheeks.

 

His green eyes watch you closely as you conversed, attempting to keep a casual distance but ending up brushing arms with you often. Each time you noticed he would straighten up and walk a little ways away before coming right back like a magnet being pulled in.

 

"How was training?" he asks you, sticking his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers. 

 

You hum thoughtfully. "I think it went well. My body aches like a bitch," he snorts at your language. "And these straps are no joke." You tug at the tight leather for emphasis, letting it spring back in place with a snap. "But if I guess if it keeps me alive out there I don't have much to complain about." 

 

"I-uh, I saw you. Earlier," Eren tells you. You turn to him with an amused look, one eyebrow raised. "When you were training with Captain Levi. I was setting laundry up on the lines and I caught a glimpse." 

 

"Hopefully not when I was hanging by my wires," you say half laughing. Eren simply stares at you guiltily, lips twitching in the effort it took to hold back a grin. You stop in your tracks, eyes widening a touch. "Oh, gods. You saw that?" He nods quickly, turning away from you to let out a snicker. "It's not nice to laugh at people, you dick!" you half shout, half giggle, shoving him lightly. You laugh along with him, covering your mouth to stifle it.

 

"I didn't know how long he was going to let you stay there," he tells you, between his fits. "You were hanging for a good minute and the Captain was on one of the trees shaking his head." 

 

"Okay, well I can't be the only one with embarrassing ODM stories," you accuse, pointing a finger at him. "Out of all those stories I have yet to hear one about you, so you better fess up tonight." 

 

He holds his palms up, smiling innocently at you.

 

You're still giggling when you see Hange standing outside the infirmary waving wildly. She rushes to meet you halfway.

 

“Oh! I knew you two would get along! What are you laughing about, huh?” she asks cheerily, hanging her arm off of one of your shoulders and wiggling her eyebrows at the both of you. You share a look with Eren and say at the same time 'nothing!'.

 

Hange pouts dramatically. "Boo, you two are no fun," she says ushering you through the white doors with a red cross on them.

 

“I hope everything is alright, I’ll see you later!” Eren calls. You turned around to thank him when Hange speaks up. “Eren you’re with me this afternoon, go ahead and join us!”

 

 

He doesn’t hide his excitement very well, red cheeks and wide smile gracing his face.

 

 

You, unfortunately, don’t hide your mortification very well when the Scout’s doctor asks you to undo the top half of your harness and remove your shirt. It wasn’t the fact that it was a male doctor or taking off your clothes that bothered you, no those were both fine. What had you closing your eyes and sighing was the fact Hange and Eren were both speaking to each other in the corner of the room, not having heard the request and therefor not knowing to turn around. It wouldn’t be that big a deal if it _also_ weren’t for the fact you were never issued a bra. The only reason you were getting away with wearing the tight night shirt you had changed into was because of the uniform’s jacket.

 

You sigh and unbuckle the clasp resting just below your clavicle, slipping the belts off your shoulders. You tug the shirt over your head with a little help from the doctor around your bad arm and fold it on your lap. He gently prods the stitches and has you move your arm this way and that before declaring the wound was healed enough for them to be removed.

You watch him as he removes the sutures for a while, surprisingly unperturbed by the sight. Your gaze flicks up to stare at Hange and Eren talking to serve as a distraction. Hange was as animated as ever, hands flying around her as she spoke and Eren leaned against the wall with his hands behind his back. He was nodding his head every now and again as she spoke, but after a bit you realized he was just doing it so it looked like he was listening. You let out a short snicker at the sight. Hange gave you a quick glance and a warm smile before turning back to Eren, still talking his ear off. Only, when she turned he turned too. You catch his eye before the green orbs shoot down, a flaming flush spreading over his face and neck, mouth dropping open. Your brows come to knit together, tilting your head slightly. Hange wears an equally confused face as she waves a hand in front of his face before looking back at you.

 

You share a look for a moment.

 

And another moment.

 

Finally you both realizing at the same time _you’re not wearing a shirt._

 

Hange quickly shoves her hands over Eren’s eyes and you slap your left hand over your breasts, covering them as much as your arm would allow. The doctor scolds you for moving, but gets ignored. You were too mortified to even care that he had accidentally poked you with his scissors, the sharp pain easily ignored. When he’s finally done with your shoulder he gives a once over to the blisters left by your harness before you can put your shirt back on, foot tapping against the counter impatiently as you wait.

"Okay, miss, you're all-" You were shucking on the shirt before he can even get the sentence out, chuckling softly to himself as you turn and thank him, deep blush on your cheeks.

Glancing back over Hange is pressing Eren against the wall, her back against his and his face smushed up against it. You find it in yourself to laugh at the ridiculousness, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. She lets up on him as you approach, but bright green can barely meet your eyes.

 

“It’s fine, Eren,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder. “No such thing as modesty in the military, right? You’re bound to see a girl nude eventually.”

He still insists that he’s sorry and you roll your eyes, following Hange out of the infirmary and to the strategy meeting room all the while listening to the brown haired boy blabber on.

 

There are a couple of people inside the building already, of whom nod to Hange and Eren before staring at you with expectant eyes.

“Keiji, Nifa, this is our newest recruit! Kind of,” Hange says, holding her hand out to you. “She doesn’t have a name so don’t bother asking!" 

You nearly slap your palm to your head with her bluntness.

 

"Cadet, this is Keiji and Nifa! They're both valuable assets of my squad!" The red haired girl gives you a sweet smile and the tall, dark haired man gives you a curt nod. "I’ll be entrusting her knowledge and understanding of titans to you two, so do please take great care. Now, if you will excuse me, Eren and I have a few _things_ to do and discuss.” With that she grabs Eren and drags him out of the room, a barely audible 'see you!' is heard shouted as the door closes after them.

Nifa speaks first, drawing your attention back to the two scouts. “I suppose we’ll simply start out with the basics.”

  
\--

You had been hoping something they taught you might ring a bell, that they’d tell you something about the titans and you’d be able to say you was already aware of the fact, but everything they taught, save for a few things Hange had mentioned in her speal, was news to you. If that weren’t enough, the whole lesson had left you more confused about the beasts than you had before. They regenerate body parts if you didn’t slice a very specific part of their nape, which terrified you, they didn't move at night, which you already knew, and they were often slow and would walk or stumble about, but some could be extremely fast and run or even jump.

These fell under a classification of titans called aberrants. They behaved unpredictably and should be treated with extreme caution. They could seem nonthreatening one minute then go as far to target specific people the next.

 

And these people risked their lives on expeditions, went face to face to them willingly.

 

You weren’t wrong to say the Scout’s were all crazy.

 

When Hange returned it was sundown, Keiji and Nifa were packing up the books they had brought with them. She plops down next to you on the bench, leaning her head into her hand and staring at you excitedly, though she looked substantially more tired than when you had seen her last. You almost wanted to hold off on telling her about what had happened earlier, but you needed her to know, least she gather something from it.

 

"So? What did you think?" she asks you, crossing her legs at the knee. You aren't sure how to answer that, cocking your head to the side. 

 

"Uh, it was," _ter_ _rifying, stomach wrenching, making me wish I had taken the Military Police up on their offer._ "Interesting." You settle on. She sighs dreamily, resting her back in her chair and letting her limbs fall limp at her sides. 

 

"Isn't it? It's incredibly important to not study titans in order to eradicate them, no? That's why I've been hounding Erwin for-"

 

"Section Commander?" you interrupt. She turns her head to you, mouth still open. "I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about. It's not about titans, though." 

 

She sits up in her seat, giving you her undivided attention. For someone so eccentric she at least knew when to shut it off.

"This morning I had a nightmare," you start, rubbing your hands together. "About the girl I saw in the woods. I think it was just some guilt dream about what I did to her-"

 

"What did you do to her?" Hange asks suddenly, voice stern. You nearly jump at the way she asked.

 

You spoke slowly, a bit of caution in your voice. "I took her gear and her clothes," you tell her. She waves her hand with an 'oh, oh, that'. You stare at her, shaking your head slightly. "I thought the Commander told you already?" 

 

"Ah, yes he did. I just forgot for a moment, silly me." she dismisses. "Keep going, doll. About your dream?"

 

"Right, uh. I was dreaming about what I did and she was screaming at me. She kept screaming that it was my fault and that I was the one that killed her. And her... fingers were gone. I was holding a pair of scissors, about to cut her fingers off." Hange sits stiffly in her chair, nodding her head. You tugged on your own fingers, cracking the knuckles. "It was really jarring, but it was so vivid. And when I was sparring with Miche I gave him a nosebleed and I. I don't actually know if I blacked out or what happened, but I heard someone talking to me." 

 

"What did they say?" she prompts you. Another shiver runs up your spine at the memory.

 

"Something about being too eager. My knuckles felt like they were busted and the man gave me something. It felt like the same scissors that were in my dream," you tell her. "I'm not sure though, it was only for a brief few seconds." 

 

Hange nods her head, taking in a deep breath. You both sit in silence while she drums her fingertips against her lips. 

 

"Miche told me you had prior hand to hand training, yes?" You nod your head, watching her. "And it was when you were sparring with him that your... incident happened." You nod again. She lets out a slight sigh. "I can't say for sure, but there's the possibility that these could be memories surfacing."

 

Your breath catches in your throat. It was what you were thinking in the shower, but you didn't want to think about that. Couldn't. They were so disgusting, so vile. How could they be memories? 

 

"It's just a theory," Hange says firmly, grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze. "I want you to report to me any and all dreams you have, okay? And any time you have one of these little blips, no matter how small." You nod your head, swallowing thickly. 

 

“So,” she starts, leaning back in her seat and absentmindedly rubbing her chin. “Tell me, do you know how children are made?” she asks you, eyes lighting back up to her usual shine. Your gawk at her, stuttering over your words.

 

“H-Hange, why are you asking me this?”

 

“It’s in the name of science, darling! So go on, don’t be shy!” She sits up in her seat, brown eyes blown wide and waiting for your answer. Rubbing your temple, you tell her, keeping it as clinical as you can.

 

She slaps the table suddenly, making you jerk. “Aha! See, you don’t remember what you’ve learned, but it’s still somewhere in that pretty head of yours! We’ve just got to pull it out! There’s no telling what you’d know, what information you could give us! Not to mention what could spark a memory.”

 

You gulp audibly, leaning back slightly as she inched towards you with every sentence. She grins from ear to ear, leaning even closer to you. “And the only way we’d be able to figure that out would be to put them to the test!” She grabs your hand, holding it between both of hers. “Would you agree to having us test this theory? Asking you questions, having you perform tasks for us? Pretty please?”

 

You slowly nod your head again, face just inches from hers. She beams, adjusting the glasses on her nose. “Oh, I knew you’d be a wonderful specimen!”

 

Your brows shoot up, jaw dropping at the same time. You stare at her as she bolts up. “Specimen?!” you ask incredulously. She pays you no mind, already running out the door with a raucous cackle.

 

You groan into your hands, rubbing your palms into your eyes.

 

You hated that the laugh that you let out was neither defeated or offended.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its out! I can finally move onto the other chapters! I can move on to the -gasp- PLOT! Yes bitches, we did it. 
> 
> Reader is slowly piecing together the puzzle that is her life. And oh boy it's one of those milk puzzles, too. 1k piece milk puzzle. yes ma'am. 
> 
> i'm glad to hear so many of you don't mind the sassy reader!! because man is she a snarky mofo, she really has a problem w authority but we'll deal with that later lol
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://cutiepiejane.tumblr.com)


	7. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short(er) chapter!! oh, and i smell relationship development! with a dash of plot, a sprig of moblit and a sprinkle of my sweet baby boy armin? recipe for a good time if you ask me.

It took just under a week before your body got used to the constant training, muscles aching in ways you were sure you had never felt before. You had regained full mobility in your shoulder and with this came the clearance from both the scout doctor and the Commander to regrettably increase your training. The only part you were remotely excited about was that you were to be expected to handle chores with the other soldiers on top of this. That not only meant you got to see your friends outside of the mess hall, but you’d have something other than running your body into the dirt to fill your time.

 

ODM gear demanded a lot out of your muscles, and the Captain would have you running laps around the training course and slicing fake napes off of titan dummies until you were essentially sentient jelly. You were able to keep up with Miche’s squad during their training, learning formations and practicing drills until lunch mercifully came around. Miche wouldn’t let you stop there, though, the man would jump on any opportunity he could to bring you to the dirt field to train you in hand to hand despite the rest of the squad not having to. Even Hange managed to exhaust you despite her work not being centered around exercise. 

 

The mad scientist/Section Commander was probably as busy as the actual Commander. Between running around all day researching and working on her ‘secret experiments’ and overlooking her team's weapon development and upgrades for the ODMG it was truly a wonder how she still managed to have so much energy at all hours of the day. 

Since you still had a lot to learn before you could be of much help with her team, you were kept busy as their scribe and being assistant to Hange’s second in command; Moblit was an exceptionally kind man, but anxiety riddled thanks to the eccentric Section Commander. It seemed like any time you were around him he was constantly pulling his hair out worrying about something Hange had done or was going to do. You spent as much time trying to console him as you did work for him.

 

 

As you were finishing up the report you were writing for Hange’s squad, movement catches your eye. Glancing up you see Moblit making his way towards you and offer him a smile which he returns with his own ever polite yet tired one. You note that he looks especially drained today, brown hair sticking out in every which direction; a sign that whatever Hange was doing he wasn’t happy with. If it weren’t at his expense you would have chuckled at the sight. All that you can manage is a short sigh. You were supposed to be off to dinner and then bed after this, but if Moblit looked like that it could only mean he needed your help. Not that you minded, really. It was fun to run around with Moblit, and while you made sure to never let it show you got a real kick out of seeing him scramble around Hange when she was doing something ridiculous.

 

“Hey Moblit, did you need some help?” you ask him when he reaches you.

 

“No, you’ve done enough for today. The Section Commander wanted me to tell you she’d be too busy to take you back tonight, but to ask Captain Levi to escort you,” he says. You’re a little surprised that he didn’t actually need you for something, but don’t question it.  Finishing the sentence you were on you hand the paper over to the tall man. “He probably won’t be too happy, so try to get there with time to spare,” he says before tacking on “For Hange’s sake.”

 

You do chuckle then.

 

You were both too busy to have conversations that didn’t pertain to your work, but you managed to build a nice rapport despite that. He had a natural maternal instinct in him, often persuading Hange from pushing too much work on you when she got distracted or telling you to sit out on some of her more explosive experiments. Literally explosive, she had been testing out new ways to subjugate titans with combustibles. He was like an older brother you weren’t sure you ever had, and your affection for each other came out in playful cadence and casual speech while talking business.

 

Smiling to him you pat the top of your head to discreetly tell him to fix his hair, calling out a ‘good luck!’ as you left. He swipes his hands over his head with a sheepish smile. You both knew it was going to get jumbled and pulled again in the next few minutes.

 

\--

 

At the mess hall you notice a distinct lack of green eyes and red scarves at the table when you sat down. Dinner goes off as it normally would, though nobody mentions or questions the two extra chairs sitting empty and collecting dust. You wonder where the two could have run off to with a twist in your lips. _Maybe that’s why Mikasa always looks ready to slice me,_ you think dryly.

 

You assumed you were the only one that seemed fussed over it, but catch a pair of nervous blue eyes glancing towards the door every few minutes expectantly.

 

“Hey, Armin,” you start. The blond turns his head and meets your gaze. “Where are Eren and Mikasa? It’s odd not seeing the three of you together,” you tell him, hoping to seem as nonchalant as possible.

He huffs a breath of laughter, looking down at his food. “They were both with Section Commander Hange last I heard. I thought they’d be back by now, but.” He trails off, looking back at the door.

 

You raise an eyebrow. Hange was finishing up her experiments, and you’re sure you would have known if either of them were with her.

 

“Maybe they blew up,” you hum. Armin’s wide eyes fly to yours and you giggle at how seriously he took the morbid joke. “Kidding, kidding. They’re probably off fooling around somewhere,” you tell him. He looks even more horrified at that and damn, you never actually spoke to him alone before, you weren’t actually sure how to go about this. “Uh, you’re all pretty close, right?” you ask quickly, coughing into your fist awkwardly. Thankfully, that seems to ease some of the tension out of his shoulders.

“Oh, yeah,” Armin says bashfully, running a strand of his long hair through his fingers. “We’ve been friends since we were children. We’re all from Shiganshina, so we stuck together after that.”

 

You have to do a double take, blinking at the blond boy. “Shiganshina? That’s the district that…” you trail it off, watching his face carefully to see if it was still a sore subject. He doesn’t look too upset about it, nodding his head. It had happened 5 years ago, so maybe he had come to terms with it all. Still. “I’m really sorry Armin. I can’t imagine.”

 

He lifts his hands, chuckling. “No, don’t apologize! It’s okay, really,” he reassures you. His blue eyes gleam for a second before they point down at his food. “If you don’t mind, I really wanted to ask you something,” he says, speaking low enough for only you to hear. You nodded your head, leaning forward slightly.

 

You watched as a nearly owlish look crosses over his boyish features. “Do you know what the ocean is?”

 

You cock your head to the side. “The ocean?” you repeat. He nods quickly. “Yeah, it’s the body of water that stretches across the earth,” you tell him, still unsure about the question. You tack on a ‘right?’ sheepishly.

 

Armin is silent, a huge smile growing on his face. And here you thought his eyes couldn’t get any wider.

 

“Why, do you guys visit it often?” you ask.

 

Armin doesn’t hesitate to shake his head. “Nobody’s ever seen it. Most people don’t even know about it,” he whispers.

 

“Seriously?” you ask dumbfounded. You suppose being restrained inside these walls the Scouts would be the only people capable of reaching it, if it was even within reach. But if even they haven’t then.. “Wait, how did you know about it then?” you ask. _Better question, how do_ I _know about it?_

 

“My grandfather. He had a book about the land outside the walls. It’s actually an illegal book, but he’d let me read it,” he tells you, scratching the side of his head.

 

“Illegal to own a book?” you ask incredulously.

 

He nods his head. “It’s really frowned upon to want to leave the walls so the government banned all information about it, but my grandfather held onto some of the literature that survived the purging.”

 

You can’t place exactly why, but it made your stomach warm a bit to hear that his grandpa had enough foresight to do that. Maybe it was the defiance that got to you. Either way, you smile into your cup. “Your grandfather is a smart man, then,” you tell him. His smile drops just a bit.

 

“Yeah, he really was.”

 

You don’t miss the correction in tense, watching him look away from you for a moment. “Oh. My condolences, Armin.”

 

“No, no, it’s alright. I rarely get the chance to talk about him, or the ocean for that matter. It’s really nice, actually,” Armin reassures. He pauses for a moment, pushing his soup around on his plate before looking back up at you. “So. Is it actually salty?” Armin asks, voice soft with awe.

 

You laugh softly at the nature of the question. Childlike and curious. “Very. You’ll get sick if you try to drink from it,” you tell him, the words rolling off your tongue like a parrot of something someone once told you. A small lump forms in your throat, and you try to swallow it down. To you that was just a fact. The ocean was salty just like the sky was blue. But to them, to the people in these walls, it was an urban legend. The realization made your stomach twist painfully. Why you were so sure of it, then? Was your knowledge even to be trusted? Maybe you learned about it from an illegal book like he had, but that didn’t feel right. If you knew about the ocean, then had you seen it? Did wherever you came from reside by it?

 

When you hear the bell ring indicating that dinner time was over you’re a bit disappointed. You wanted to talk to Armin more. “It was really nice to talk to you, Armin. Thank you for sharing all that with me. About your grandfather and your hometown.”

 

He waves his hands in front of him, cheeks flushing pink. “No, thank you,” he says as he stands from his seat. “Part of the reason I joined the Survey Corps was because I wanted to explore the land outside the walls, see everything my grandfather’s book talked about. It’s reassuring to know that those things actually exist. One of them, at least.”

 

You smile at him, studying his features for a moment before speaking. “Hange and the Commander have been fleshing out a series of tests for me, to see what information I might know. They’ll probably be happy to have your input, so if you want to try to squeeze some answers out of me you should go see them.” His eyes widen to the size of saucers, cheeks crushing them with the force of his smile. He looks like Sasha after you give her bread. He nods so fast you’re almost scared he’ll bruise his brain, laughing as you bid him a goodnight.

  


You yawn as you make your way to the Officer’s hall of the castle. You still had a lot of time left before curfew, but decided to heed Moblit’s warning about getting there promptly, and it’s a good thing you did. The damn thing was like a maze, and you admittedly got lost a few times before finally reaching your destination.  

 

Knocking on his office door, the Captain’s reply came almost immediately.

 

“Name and business,” the monotone voice calls out.

 

You nearly laugh. “Afraid I only have one of those for you, sir.”

 

A faint sigh can be heard from inside, followed by a curt ‘come in’. You push the heavy door open, slipping inside. It’s your first time in his quarters, and you’re almost shocked at how barren it is. A large desk with two chairs in front of it sits near another door, two bookshelves stood on either side of his desk, lined to the brim with literature. A low coffee table and navy blue sofa residing in front of a decent sized window, but other than that the room was empty. The Officer’s rooms doubled as offices, so you were surprised at how desolate his was.

 

It was a stark contrast to Hange’s quarters, but you didn’t think anything could come even close to that hoarders nest. Every inch of usable surface was covered in books, paperwork, unlabeled vials suspicious looking liquid and enough teacups to have you curious how the kitchen had any left. Even the nook underneath her sofa was filled with volumes upon volumes of hardback books and looseleaf paper. The only space occupied with paper in the Captain’s room was his desk, but they were in neat stacks.

 

“What do you want?” the Captain asks, drawing your attention back to him. You wondered what he had gotten up to since you last saw him this morning, the bags under his eyes seeming far darker than they did before. As a matter of fact, everyone seemed to have something bothering them today. You push the thought aside.

 

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me, Captain,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

 

The glare he shoots you is only half as menacing as you had hoped. You look from the paper in his hands to the stacks on his desk. You _really_ just wanted to keel over in your stiff dungeon bed and sleep, but the nicer side of you won out in the internal debate. “Can I help at all with that? Look like you’re about to suffocate under all this,” you say, motioning to his desk.

 

He rolls his eyes. “Your grubby paws would just sour the papyrus. If you’re that desperate to keep them busy I’ll be more than happy to give you a cleaning task,” he tells you.

 

“Please, your attitude can curdle milk. I’m surprised the paper hasn’t disintegrated yet,” you fire back. You think you see a smirk tugging on his lips, but it might just be the way he’s rubbing at his temple.

 

“What’s your business, Cadet? If you don’t have a legitimate reason then get the hell out,” the Captain bites. You sigh.

 

“Hange is wrapped up in something important, asked if you wouldn’t mind escorting me to my cell.” Sure, you were sugar coating a bit, but you figured she needed it if his grumbling was anything to go off of. Something about ‘shitty glasses pawning shit off on me’ and ‘damned babysitting duties’.

 

“Let’s get on with it then.” He shuffles the papers he was holding into a stack and grabs a pair of keys from a drawer in his desk.

 

“I was serious about with the paperwork, Captain,” you say, walking up to his desk. “If you tell me what needs to be done, I wouldn’t mind helping. But if your pride won’t allow it you can pretend you came up with the idea as a punishment for something,” you offer with a snort. It’s beyond you at this point why you’re being so persistent. Perhaps you’ve been put in a generous mood between Moblit and Armin. Maybe it’s because seeing him less than snappy is boring. Either way you don’t back down when he stares at you.

 

“These aren’t sensitive documents. If you’re trying to steal information try harder.”

 

You roll your eyes. “My master plan, foiled again,” you deadpan.

 

The Captain sits back in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He stays like that for so long you’re almost worried he’s fallen asleep. Finally he picks his head back up.

 

“Go to the kitchen and make some tea. Be quick and wash both the kettle and teacup before you use them. If it’s shitty I’ll have your ass.”

 

You smirk at him. “Are you always this forward with your subordinates, Captain Levi?” you ask in a mockingly flirty tone.

 

He doesn't miss the fact that this is the first time you've said his name, stiffening both then and at the crudeness of your joke. He makes up for it by grabbing the first thing within reach on his desk and launching it at your head.  Barely dodging the paperweight, you scramble out of his office before he can reload.

  


When you return you nearly drop the tray you were holding, blinking a few times at the Captain before stepping slowly towards his desk. Perched on his nose was a pair of thin glasses, grey eyes downcast and hand scrawling over a sheet of paper. He certainly didn’t have those on when you first came in.

 

He doesn’t look up when you place the tray down in front of him, instead motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk. He hands you a stack of papers and explains what you needed to do quickly. “If you don’t understand something, ask. I don’t want to have to correct your work,” he tells you.

 

You sigh out a ‘yes, sir’ and get started on the pile. He picks his tea up by the rim like he always did and you watch as he brings it up to his mouth, taking a silent sip. You don’t miss the small raise of his thin eyebrows when he swallows. You stupidly feel a swell of pride.

 

You were ruefully accurate in saying that helping him could be a form of punishment, the papers were deathly boring and dense. If you didn’t have to ask him for clarification every now and again or scribble a few things here and there you’d have surely fallen asleep by now. He answered every question you had calmly, even when you were sure he knew you were asking about things just to get some sort of mental break out of staring at the pages. He was surprisingly patient when working one on one with someone. For such a stoic and volatile man, he was rather understanding.

 

Dipping the pen into the ink on his table, you carefully wipe the tip on the edge of the glass container so as not to accidentally drip it somewhere. It was weirdly clean in his office, you noticed. Not so much as a spider’s web in sight, even in the small crevices and corners of the room. You almost felt bad for the spider. _I wonder if they just stopped coming in here knowing their webs would be removed without fail,_ you think humorously. _Maybe they migrated into Hange’s office. In fact, I’m sure every spider in the Corps migrated to her office. Every spider and insect and bug and--_

 

“Oi.”

 

Your eyes drag up to his grey ones and- wait. Were they _blue_ ? You swore they looked blue for a second. Maybe it was the candle light, but you couldn’t imagine why they would shine _blue_ of all colors. Grey-blue irises were staring at you, thin eyebrows knit above them and - oh.

 

“Yes?” you finally respond, blinking a few times to clear your head.

 

He frowns at you. “You’re spacing off. That’s the last one, hand it over.”

 

You look down at the paper in your hands, realizing you had plowed through them all already. Handing it to the Captain, you rub your tired eyes as he checks over it quickly, making a few scratching marks on its smooth surface before setting it down in one of the neat stacks on his desk.

 

“It’s past curfew,” he states, removing his glasses and standing. The jingle of keys are like a lullaby, your body relaxing like a dog salivating at the ring of a bell. Stretching your legs, you sigh and follow the Captain out of his quarters.

 

The cool night air cuts right through your jacket, forcing a shiver to wrack your body. As he leads you into the dungeon the air only continues to drop in temperature. You’re consciously clenching your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, arms held tightly around your chest to preserve heat.

 

“Have you got enough blankets?” the Captain asks. You nearly mistake the question as one of your strange auditory hallucinations before he turns around with an eyebrow raised.

 

“Huh? Oh, uh yeah. I’m sure I’ll be plenty warm once I’m under them,” you say, rubbing your hands against your arms.

 

He doesn’t acknowledge you further. When you pass by the first cell you glance into it to see Eren sleeping like a rock in his bed, a blanket kicked down to his feet and shirt half way up his torso. You smile at the sight, wondering how he managed to sleep like that without being cold, but stop dead in your tracks, noticing something off.

 

Around his head there’s… _No, it can’t be so cold that it’s causing his breath to be visible, mine certainly wasn’t. But sure enough that has to be.._

 

“Captain?” you call nervously. You take a step closer to his cell to get a better look, but before you can a hand grabs your arm, jerking you away.

 

“Don’t stare at people while they sleep. Creepy little shit,” he says, practically dragging you back to your cell.

 

“Is he okay?” you ask as he pushes you inside.

 

“Why wouldn’t he be,” the Captain deadpans.

 

“There was _smoke_ or something coming off of him!” you tell him frantically, voice raising with a mix of worry and frustration to his blank stare. 

 

He blinks slowly. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.”

 

He doesn’t entertain your attempt at a staring match, locking the cell and turning on his heel. You hear his footsteps clicking on the stone floor, but they slow just slightly when he passes where you know Eren’s cell is. You hear him lightly sigh before resuming his pace and leaving up the stairs.

 

You splash your face with the freezing water in the basin by your sink. _That must be it. I’m just exhausted_ , you think to yourself, patting dry. _I must be going crazy. Completely bonkers._

 

Shucking off your shoes and pants, you don’t bother dressing in the cotton ones before collapsing face first onto your bed and wrapping yourself in a tight cocoon of blankets. You fall asleep almost as soon as your eyes close.

 

When you wake up the next day, you don’t notice the two extra blankets you have to peel off before getting out of bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn reader don't be a snitch, maybe my boy just tryna toke it up.


	8. We'd All Be Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeep lets not talk about the fact this chapter is late and bite sized. look over there! Dreams! oh the fun! oh the terror! i'm actually quite pleased with this!

_ Two sets of heavy boots thumped loudly against the stone covered alley, lead feet holding your body to the earth while your head swam in the clouds. The path you walked wasn’t one you consciously made, but one that your legs moved you towards. Teeth bit into the butt of a cigarette, swapping it from one side of your mouth to the other in an unconscious attempt to assuage your nerves. Fisted hands were buried deep in thick pockets and pinched your thighs while you schooled your face into an ever present look of indifference.  _

 

_ “This is the one, ma’am.”  _

 

_ Turning to look at the unassuming building you stopped next to, your head bobbing once in a nod. The light haired boy accompanying you wasn’t but a year younger, just having joined the force. He still held so much more life in him. Bright eyed and brimming with a sense of justice. Eager to dole it out. He had a rude awakening coming, but you couldn’t be bothered to dwell on it. It wouldn’t make a difference if it were you the one taking him here or someone else. He’d end up walking these steps anyway. You all had to.  _

 

_ Knocking on the thin door twice you held your hands behind your back while you waited, listening for any movement on the other side. Soft noises could be heard, the telltale shuffle of someone not wanting to be noticed. An impatient yet generous beat passes before you rap on the door again, louder and more threatening force applied. To scare or warn or cover the noises, you weren’t sure yourself. Removing the cigarette from your mouth you let it fall to the ground and twist your heel. Bringing up the same foot to extinguish the cherry of your cigarette, you reel back and move to send it forward just above the doorknob.  _

 

_ Before it can land and splinter the wood, your vision sways. Instead of a door in the way of your boot, black leather moves towards the exposed back of a woman. Her hands are bound behind her with rope, head hung low. She’s kneeling over a cliff, muffled cries reaching your ear. In an attempt to miss the woman you divert your path to just beside her, but realize too late that it would only send you off the cliff instead. Body moving forward you fall through the air, twisting around just in time to find an unsympathetic face staring back, her eyes forcing your throat to close and heart to race. Bloodied and bruised almost past the point of recognition, but so clearly  _ you _.  _

  
  
  
  


Heavy lids blink open, eyes adjusting to the pitch black room and chest rising and falling evenly underneath a pile of blankets. Listening closely you could hear Eren’s soft snoring in the cell down from yours, sleeping peacefully and probably tangled up in his sheets. You roll over onto your side, propping yourself up and grabbing for the box of matches next to your bed. Setting fire to the wick of your lone candle, you grab your book from underneath your pillow and get to work finding a blank page.

 

Your confidant through the nights spent restless was a once blank notebook. Pages now filled with messy, haphazardly formed words recounting every one of your dreams. Every detail was recorded in full to be handed over to Hange who would read and decipher it all with a detached eye. You’d wake up in the middle of the night and automatically reach out for it, ready to scrawl whatever you could recall onto the page no matter the state you were in. With a shaky hand or steady grip, sleep hazed eyes or tear soaked ones. It didn’t matter. 

 

Your nightmares had started out as occasional pop ups every other night, but as your days in the Survey Corps continued you found yourself wrapped in both terror inducing and thought provoking dreams every time you closed your eyes. Sometimes you’d wake with a start, sweating and sobbing while trying to clumsily light a candle and scrawl your sins onto the offwhite paper. Other nights, like this one, you’d wake up with the sole intent of going right back to sleep after your deed was done. You didn’t favor these night more than the others. 

 

Hange hadn’t brought up her theory since offering it the second day you were here, but that hadn’t stopped it from echoing through your head every time you woke up. It sent your blood cold to think that what you were seeing might have been real. You could accept the terrors you had about the giants outside of the walls. The dreams where you were stomped on and crushed, bitten into and pulled apart. You could bear these, but you were rarely so lucky. 

 

There were no gangly arms reaching for you, but small, soft fingers being reduced to stumps with deft movements. No hungry teeth searching to bite down, but yellowed ones ripped from bleeding gums. The skin torn in your dreams wasn’t chewed and consumed, but bagged and thrown with the trash. Your night terrors weren’t tormented by titan. Your dreams were beset with normal humans.

 

When you finish up your most recent scrawlings, you stick the pen into the spine of the book and close the lid of the small vial of ink, setting the glass container on the shelf by your bed. Your thumb runs over the curled edges of paper in the notebook while you waited for the ink to dry. You never tried too hard to decode your dreams, wishing once they were solidified in ink they’d be erased from your mind, but it wasn’t that simple. You couldn’t help but be curious about them and that stuck with you like a thorn. As much as you would have loved to attenuate your nightmares as unfortunate stress dreams that you could wake up and move on from, you couldn’t. That was the reason you’d find yourself awake at odd hours, sobbing and heaving as quietly as you could into your toilet. Not because of what you saw, not if you were honest. But because it was so nauseatingly clear to you. 

 

It was always  _ your  _ knuckles covered in crimson.

 

_ Your  _ voice shouting threats and insults, demanding answers.

 

The voices weren’t weren’t begging not to be eaten, but for  _ you  _ to have mercy.

  
  


_ You stood across the street, a cigarette hanging from your lips and watchful eyes soaking in the sight before you. The red flames licked at the embroidered drapes that covered the windows, crawling up them easily. Black smoke billowed past the broken wooden door, rising up through the night air. _

 

_ The flames would consume everything they touched, but they would take a bit longer to devour the grinding screams. They reached your ears clear as church bells. You wondered if their neighbors were trembling in their homes, fearing they could be the next. Perhaps they were rejoicing, simply grateful it wasn’t their turn yet.  _

 

_ You turned to the boy next to you when he began to walk away. Reaching for the back of his coat you fist your hand in the navy collar and tug him harshly back to you, feet stumbling and sending him to his knees. You held onto him like you were holding the scruff of a kitten. He behaved like one too, docile and pliable.  _

 

_ “It’s rude to leave in the middle of a concert,” you told him softly, sucking in a drag of your cigarette. Smoke expanded your lungs sweetly. It wouldn’t be so sweet for the family inside. _

 

_ He rubbed at his temple, eyes wide and staring ahead of him at the ground. You stood together in silence, listening for the final shout to sound out to tell you the job was done. It was the little girl that’s breath gave out the last cry. You forced him back on his feet, beating the back of his coat to remove the wrinkles you put into the cloth before walking back the way you came. It was only your footsteps heard on the stone this time.  _

 

_ “Are you the Devil?” the boy whispered. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear him, but you hummed thoughtfully and paused your strides. Turning around to look at him over your shoulder, the fearful gleam and flinch confirmed you weren’t meant to hear. _

 

_ “The Devil?” you repeated, mouth curled around the word as you spoke. It didn’t have a bitter aftertaste, like you had expected. Running your tongue over your teeth as if you could savor it, you smiled at him. “Why in the world would you ask such a stupid question?” You laughed lightly.  _

 

_ His shoulders slumped with relief and he jogged to meet you. You sling an arm around his shoulders, pulling his ear flush against your smiling lips.  _

  
  
  


_ “If I were we’d all be burning.”  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reader's dreams are freaky idk bro what could they beee. what could they meaaannn~~
> 
> i split this chapter from the fluff bc it didn't feel quite right and it felt better to feed y'all this than keep you waiting for another week. still trying to practice the whole philosophy that you should just write and say fuck it lol it's hard!! i think too much and get distracted easily. i've been writing a sentence an hour it's,,, bad.
> 
> anyway, thanks for sticking with me! so lovely to have you all here. 
> 
> **i'd like to call attention that i have taken the erwin/reader paring from the relationships, the more i wrote the less i found myself catering to him so i didn't want to string anyone along any further. it just didn't flow right and felt forced so i chopped it off. a necessary loss, my sincerest apologies.


	9. Mitras Coffee Snob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a bigger chapter but i split it in half bc the second part needed some more work. have some captain fluff as an apology for being gone so long!

_'Routine is essential to daily life as a soldier.’_

 

That’s what the worn, passed down Soldier’s Handbook had written, at least. 

 

The Officer’s had their own rotations when it came to retrieving you from your cell, switching out the duty each day to keep it even and fair. Captain Levi, Miche, Hange, wash, rinse, repeat. 

You were often awake far before one of the Officer's came to get you, riding off the adrenaline of a nightmare that had stolen any chance of returning to sleep for you. Patiently you'd wait until you heard Eren's heavy and even breaths grow shallow, the creak of his metal bed posts and then the shuffle of cloth to tell you it was time to get up. You'd start to roll out of your nest of blankets then, brush your hair and pull on your uniform in the dark room.

Sometimes Eren would quietly hum a soft sounding song while getting ready, and sometimes you'd catch yourself with the melody stuck in your head for the day, humming it while scrubbing floors or running laps around the base. You'd even toyed with the idea of giving him a scare and asking where the song came from, but had yet to get around to it. Admittedly, you just didn't want him to stop. 

Not long after Eren would leave bouncing up the stairs would one of the Officer's come down to get you.

It was always a nice surprise to be woken up by one of the Officer's. Sure, Miche would typically shake your shoulder a little harder than needed, Captain Levi would snap his fingers in front of your face until you pushed them away and Hange would rip your blankets from you until you got out of bed, but it was still a pleasant omen if only because it meant you had a full night's worth of sleep. 

 

While rotations on letting you out in the mornings seemed set in stone, returning you to your quarters was a different story. 

 

You almost always ended up being escorted back to your cell at night by the Captain, it was almost always far past curfew and the late nights were _never_ to be spoken about to either of the Section Commanders, though it was obvious they both had an inkling of what the arrangement was.

Hange especially enjoyed _accidentally_ bumping into the two of you when the Captain was taking you back to your cell, giggling to herself and wiggling her brows at you. Miche liked to give you a good thorough sniff in the mornings when he came to get you which, to your surprise and his own, you’d allow without any jabs to his nose or character. Too sleepy to protest, you'd stand there complacently while he'd take two deep sniffs, teasingly narrow his eyes and tell you you smelled ‘interesting’. He'd never outright ask anything, but you could tell by the lifted corner of his mouth he had his theories.

 

Unfortunately for their wandering minds ( _perverts, the whole lot of them),_ your late nights with the Captain consisted of easily the least enticing activities imaginable.

  


Paperwork.

  


It _never_ ended.

 

The first night you offered it was more or less out of politeness. The lingering ‘pay it forward’ high you get when doing something nice for someone still present in your system urged you to offer to help your perpetually tired Captain. Curious to know if he’d allow it a second time, you offered again. Fully expecting him to reject your proposal you were a little more than surprised that he accepted. You went to make his pot of tea and returned to the Captain with his nose practically pressed into paperwork, his thin glasses riding low on his bridge and your own stack set out with a pen on the other side of the desk. 

 

The third, fourth and fifth times, however, were less altruistic.

 

Returning to help him with paperwork had taken a turn from a kind gesture and towards an entirely self serving escape. Being stuck in the cold, damp cell each night bothered you more than you were willing to admit, and it wasn’t like you got much sleep when you were in your bed anyway. Instead, you sought out the comfortable drone of a quill scratching parchment and the faint smell of ink and tea permeating the air of the Captain’s warm quarters. Even if it were just a few hours delay to the return of your cell, it was a welcome distraction that you snatched up without much thought.

 

Unbeknownst to you, the Captain looked forward to the days you came to him to help tackle the bottomless pit of paperwork that was constantly dumped onto his desk. The perks of his title didn’t come close to outweighing the pain in his ass that was the obscene expense reports Erwin expected him to complete. Crunching numbers, estimating supply orders and balancing the Corps’ budget wasn’t a particularly hard task, but instead a time consuming one. Juggle that with reading over battle plans, writing input onto expedition preparations and writing detailed reports for not one, but _two_ shitty brats and his hands were sufficiently full. 

 

Conveniently for him, however, one of said brats had neat handwriting, a good education, and liked to play assistant as much as she liked to play soldier. Pawning the expense reports onto you only made sense; he couldn’t ask you to write your own report or ask you to read and summarize documents with sensitive battle strategies, after all. Maybe if things all went well in the future, but for now? Most certainly not. 

 

You didn’t mind in the slightest. Crunching numbers was almost therapeutic for you and gave your mind a break from running at full speed at all hours of the day. What made it all the better was the fact the Captain had very quietly given you incentive to continue helping him. Not that you needed it, but he didn’t need to know that.

 

You had returned one night with the kettle of tea he always had you make, placing the metal tray on his left side and sliding into your spot in front of him. He accepted it with a nod, but flashed his silver-blue eyes at you a moment later. 

 

“You can grab yourself a cup, you know,” he had told you, sipping on the dark liquid. His offer had both confused and surprised you. You hadn’t thought he’d be the type of person to allow or trust others to drink in his office, not with his reputation as a clean freak, at least. “Unless you prefer that shit they try to pass off as coffee?” he tacked on a second later.

 

You visibly shuddered, picking up your pile of papers. You hadn’t listened to the warning Sasha gave when she told you not to try and drink the stuff the first week you were there, and after the first sip you vowed to listen to her when it came to food warnings. If Sasha wasn’t eating something you and the others knew not to either.  

 

“I’ll remember that next time, Captain. I do prefer coffee, but I wouldn’t touch that boiled pigs piss with a ten foot stick,” you tell him. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

 

He chuckled lightly to your response.  

 

After a few minutes of working in silence, the sable haired man stood up and removed his glasses. “I’ve got to take a shit. Stay here.”

 

“Eloquent as always, Captain,” you muttered without looking up, unfazed by the crude words. You were too absorbed in working out an equation to notice that he left the room entirely instead of going to his private en suite bathroom.

 

When he returned nearly ten minutes later he wordlessly set a cup down in front of you. You looked up from your paper then, eyeing the new addition and then him. Smiling, you picked up the cup and brought it to your lips.

 

“You didn’t have to-” 

When the strong and familiar scent filled your nose you almost gasped.

 

From the first sip of the drink supplied for the soldiers in the mess hall you had accepted that you’d probably never get to drink decent coffee again. The drink they gave you when you were under the Garrison’s custody was _okay_ , but even then you knew it was watered down. Even in your unsavory dreams you’d find yourself sipping on the hot, bitter drink, much like you’d find yourself often smoking tobacco. 

 

Miche had crushed your wish to satiate the latter with a wide eyed look and explanation of how expensive tobacco was, and the Survey Corps’ kitchen destroyed what hope you had of the former with their absolute massacre of the substance. The brew tasted like whoever had made it had burned the beans before steeping them, or legitimately used piss instead of water. 

 

 _This_ , however. This held none of the pungent, sulfuric stench the crap they put out in the mess hall did, the rich and deep smell wafting into your lungs. The color was actually _opaque_ and the heat from the cup warmed and relaxed the slightly tight muscles in your hands. 

 

You stared wordlessly into the dark brown liquid, bubbles still swirling in the middle from the fresh pour. The Captain returned to his seat, slipping his glasses back on the bride of his thin nose. He spared your bemused face a glance and rolled his eyes. 

 

“What, are you that big of a coffee snob? You sure you didn’t come from Mitras?” 

 

The joke flew over your head, but instead of questioning him on it you brought the cup to your mouth, taking a small sip of the steaming drink.

 

You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your lips, feet bouncing happily under you. It wasn’t just okay coffee, it was _good_ coffee. The familiar flavor danced across your tongue, reminding you just how wonderful the drink was when prepared correctly. You didn’t even care that the hot liquid was burning your tongue, quickly going back in for a second sip.

You looked up to him, his head resting propped on his hand and steely eyes watching you with what you’d almost be brave enough to call fondness. “Thank you, Captain Levi,” you told him, the dopey smile already splitting your face widening. 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face and get back to work,” the Captain halfheartedly snapped, whispering a ‘spoiled brat’ under his breath that you barely caught. 

Turning his head down to his papers, he willed the unfamiliar heat that had spread to his cheeks away with all his might.

 

While no ‘if you, then I’ statements were ever exchanged, when you’d come into his office and ask if he needed any help, he’d tell you to go make him his tea and you’d return without fail to the smell of fresh coffee waiting for you.

  


Routine is essential to a soldier’s life, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the coffee levi makes is from the Officer's supply) (Miche laughs when he smells her bc he thinks she's been stealing it from their supply but doesn't say anything bc he likes the new scent on her hehe) 
> 
> so ya girl is struggling a bit w the next few chapters, they're all plot related and i'm trying to make them as smooth a transition as possible, but it's admittedly kinda hard. your support has meant the word to me though, y'all are so kind and sweet and knowing you're enjoying the story just hhh makes my heart sing, ya know? 
> 
> also, not that i think any of you need to be told, but this work is entirely unbeta'd! (unbeta-ed?) but if anybody wants to be a doll and offer their hearts to the cause, i'd love to have some editing and writing buddies!! or tbh just some snk friends i'm not ready for ch 120 and i need someone to cry with. you can find me on [Tumblr](https://cutiepiejane.tumblr.com)!! don't be shy come say hi >;-0


	10. Greedy Web

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if the formatting is a little weird forgive me lol. or, if you like this better, lemme know so i can format future chapters this way)

You wouldn’t consider yourself a greedy person. 

You had clothes on your back and food in your stomach, which, according to the gossip you caught when helping out in the kitchen, was only getting more and more expensive. You no longer had to see or hear the stomps of titans, sleep in trees or wear blood covered clothes, all of which took a greater toll on your sanity than you’d given credit for. 

Warm, fed, and safe, you had everything you needed, but a part of you itched for more. 

It wasn’t a materialistic rapacity, nor a gluttonous drive. Instead, you felt almost insatiably curious. About the titans, about the walls, about the stupid history book you kept by your bed. You tried to read it, but couldn’t force yourself to really digest or entirely understand what was written. And, of course, that only sparked more curiosity and questions, most of which only frustrated and confused you more. You understood that, before the wall, or  _ walls _ , fell the Survey Corps had only scouted a few miles past the border of their defenses, but then how did anyone know that there weren’t other colonies or domains past there? And if everyone is so set on that being categorically erroneous, then  _ why in the hell _ were you so ostracized? 

You sat in your bed, flickering candle burning dangerously low in its holder. Propped on the edge of your mattress, you paid it no mind as you chewed on your fingernails, mindlessly watching a small spider spin a web in the corner of your cell. From your place on the bed you couldn’t make out any distinguishable features, but you hope it isn’t anything poisonous. Sighing, you press your back more firmly against the cold stone wall. How naive you were to think in the beginning that your most pressing questions would be about what was lost to your amnesia. What led you outside the walls, why you knew X and not Y,  _ what the hell your name was _ . Of course, you spent many nights pondering these, only to come up with nothing but the sweet pang of defeat, and in a way you had accepted it. There was only so much you could do with your limited memories, and it wasn’t like you could ask someone to tell you about, well, you.

Then again it wasn’t like you could ask anyone about very much, really. On the direct contrary of your assumptions, what turned out to be the most critical questions you had were shot down time and time again.

Hange had outright told you that there were certain things she couldn’t disclose, and while you understood and respected that at the start, the list of ‘off limits’ topics seemed to stretch further from what you initially took for top brass confidentiality. What seemed to be general knowledge was kept deliberately from you, and the gag order obviously hadn’t been specified as discreet. 

People would be having casual conversations but the moment you walked by their lips were sewn shut. During a lesson with Nifa and Keiji you had asked how exactly the military was able to seal the wall in Trost with a boulder, and was met with shifty eyes and a polite ‘that’s on a need-to-know basis’. You didn’t actually care how they got the boulder to the wall, but now? Oh, you were viciously curious. 

And then there was the question that liked to slap you in the face every night when you were escorted back to your cell. The person sat just one down from yours, sleeping like the damn dead and completely oblivious to your stewing agitations. Agitations that had nothing to do with him, but everything to do with what he currently stood for.

_ Another question you’d be denied the answer to.  _

It was made clear on the first day that Eren’s reasonings for being kept in the dungeon were nothing you were allowed to know about, but were supposedly innocent in nature. Relieved that you weren’t going to be sleeping a mere three meters from an exiled pervert, it did nothing to stunt your budding nosiness. 

You knew it had nothing to do with there not being enough room in the barracks -- the Survey Corps didn’t have enough soldiers to fill the tables in the mess hall, let alone all their beds -- and it was a slim chance he was put there in order to keep watch over you; too fresh a recruit, you had originally deduced, but also the fact that he was as surprised to see you there as you were him.

Having him near you wasn’t the issue. It was nice to have his company on nights where sleep escaped you both, or just to know someone else was near you. It was the fact that, despite being kept in the dungeon like you, Eren wasn’t locked in his cell. You couldn’t understand it. They obviously kept him there with good reason, and yet he was free to slip out of his cell and walk around for all he wanted to. Not that you’d ever seen him exploit that freedom. He was always in his cell before you and, besides the nights where he would sit outside yours to talk, he didn’t leave it until morning. 

The little spider was almost done with her web. Just large enough to reach from where the walls came together. The dying candle light reflected off the thin, translucent strings, casting it in an orange glow. It’s sticky silk would come down as soon as the Captain took notice, but it wasn’t like it was in a very auspicious place anyway. There wasn’t a lick of dust in the entire dungeon for moths to breed, and there isn’t anything to attract flies.  _ All that work for nothing, _ you thought.  _ Hange’s quarters will be better for you. Or anywhere besides here, really. _

What you wouldn’t give to be unconfined to your cell. Your thoughts seemed to swallow you in the small space, bounce off the stone walls and come right back to nag and taunt you. It was suffocating. If after a rough night you could walk off the tension and weight in your limbs, go outside for only a moment to see the sky and the stars and ease your mind, then...

You hug your knees tightly to your chest, dropping your forehead to rest against them.

Seeing the stars wouldn’t do much. You’d still be stuck in a cage if you left your cell; confined within walls when you stepped outside. Because outside wasn’t really  _ outside. _ It was  _ inside  _ the three, or two, or however many walls it was surrounding you. You didn’t even know where you were, which wall it was you were inside. Not that that much mattered. If your cell door was open, that would only satiate you until even that felt suffocating. If you could run outside to your heart’s content, you’d end up kissing a barrier eventually. Run again, feel free for a moment, then hit the other end.

Was it really greed burning your skin? You couldn’t quite place a name to the sensation, but the cramping trepidation settled in your bones and twisting your stomach certainly wasn’t new. In fact, the feeling was all too familiar. It was the same feeling you got when you had a particularly vivid nightmare, the ones where you were floating around acting out a scene that you had no control over changing. Stuck. Powerless.  _ Like a fly caught in the little spider’s web.  _

Hand snaking from your knees, you pick up the thick history book, feeling it’s weight on your palm and eyeing the little black dot on the opposite wall. You were  _ not  _ stuck. Maybe you weren’t allowed to know the answers to everything, and maybe it was better that way, but you’d decide that for yourself. The walls surrounding you were not caging you, and you’d make sure of that.  

Stepping slowly off your bed, your toes curl against the cold floor. Reeling your arm back, you line up the shot to the spider, sitting blissfully unaware of its upcoming demise. Soon it would just be an ugly smear on the wall.

 

_ Thatta girl, I knew you had it in you. _

 

Gasping, you flinch violently and whip around, dropping the book from your hands. You don’t realize it’s hit your bed, spilling the collected wax in the chamber stick onto the floor and snuffing the flame -- all you register is that the room is now engulfed in darkness. You instinctively slam your back up against the nearest wall, or in your case, the cell door. Heart racing loudly in your ears and thumping violently against your chest, you widen your eyes as far as they’ll go in an effort to see in the dark. 

You  _ felt  _ that. Like someone had whispered in your ear, right against it. Could practically smell their breath, though realistically that may just be the smoke coming from the burnt out wick. You wait for something to attack you, to rear out and grab you.

After a long thirty seconds of nothing happening, you finally releases your held breath, shoulders slumping forward and eyes falling closed. 

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

Choking on your newly found breath, you spin around. Tan face illuminated by a candle, Eren stares wide eyed at you, his unoccupied hand held up in a placating gesture. Neither of you speak for a moment, simply watching the other. Your eyes only slightly wider than Eren’s, the bags under them prominent in the low light. Finally, Eren breaks the silence with a breathless repeat of his first question. 

Placing a hand to your chest, you give a strained chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He doesn’t seem too convinced, but nods slowly. You wave your hand at the mess on the floor. “I, uh. Was going to kill a spider.” 

Nodding again, he runs a hand through his mangled brown hair. “It must have come from the Section Commander’s office, then.” 

Managing an actual laugh, you step over the cooling wax on the floor and grab another candle from the shelf, striking a match and lighting it quickly. 

“Sorry if I woke you with the ruckus,” you apologize, not turning back around to face him before you get to your knees and begin to clean the mess. 

“No, it’s fine. I heard you shout and didn’t know if you were having another nightmare,” he tells you. Stilling your hands, your shoulders tense. 

“A nightmare?” you parrot, not meeting his eye.

He shuffles on his feet. “Yeah, sometimes you, uh. Shout. When you’re sleeping.”

_ Well, _ you think.  _ This is news to me.  _ “And you check on me?” you ask slowly. Eren stutters his response and you finally glance over at him. His green eyes are looking off to the side, the tops of his cheeks darker than the rest of his face. “Well I-I mean. Yes. Just to make sure you’re okay.” Your own cheeks burn with the thought that you’d woken Eren up before with  _ shouting,  _ of all things. 

“Why didn’t you tell me I was waking you up?” you ask, continuing to focus yourself on scraping at the dried wax on the floor. 

“I haven’t heard you in a while,” he says. “And it’s a pretty frequent thing. To be woken up by another soldier having nightmares. Especially in the Corps.” 

You hum quietly. “I never hear you having any,” you tell him. 

“I got them pretty bad right after Trost and the last expedition. You kind of get used to them.” You cock your head to the side, giving Eren a glance. He raises his brows before hurriedly tacking on, “I mean, everyone goes at their own pace. And it’s not like--”

 

“You were at Trost?” you cut him off. He blinks before nodding slowly. “How is that possible? Wouldn’t you have been just a kid?” 

“I think you’re thinking of the first breach, in Shiganshina,” he tells you. “Trost happened just a day after we disbanded from training. We were helping the Garrison when, uh. It happened.” 

Standing, you approach the cell bars. “I thought Trost happened at the same time as Wall Maria fell? Five years ago.” 

“You didn’t know that?” he asks, brows knit. “I don’t know if I was supposed to tell you, then.”

“Does that really matter? Why would that be important?” 

Eren shakes his head, looking torn. “I don’t know. But I’m sorry. If I could, I would tell you,” he says, and you believe him. Swallowing thickly, you wave it off. 

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. Feeling the pinpricks of tears at the corner of your eye, you turn back around to continue fixing the mess on the floor. Why can’t anyone just  _ tell you?  _ What have you done to be so untrustworthy?

Glancing over your shoulder, you flash Eren a smile, and make it as genuine as possible. “Thanks for checking in on me, Bright Eyes. You should go back to sleep, though.”

He nods his head, but stays planted where he is. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think I know what you’re feeling,” he says, before finally turning to leave. 

You listen to his feet patter down to his cell and the iron door opening. Disposing of the flakes of wax into a bucket near the sink, you sigh as quietly as you can before falling onto the bed.

So you only arrived a little over a month after the breach in Trost happened. And the outermost wall, Wall Maria, had been compromised five years before that. How could a  _ second  _ breach happen? And would that mean that they're at risk of another? 

Hange had told you no  _ normal  _ titan would be able to put any damage into the wall, but you hadn’t even thought that there was a  _ type _ that could. You’d only learned of abnormal titans, but they hadn’t mentioned incredible strength being one of their traits. 

She had mentioned the bodies in the forest you found too. Was that what they were up against? Titans were supposed to  _ eat _ , that was their nature. Were there ones that just massacred?

Laughing mirthlessly, you cover your eyes with your arm. 

 

_ Just what the hell am I supposed to do with all this? _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, hi, hello. we've reached 200 kudos and i'm ECSTATIC! that's so neat!! y'all take the cake for putting up w this story 🙌🙏 papa bless. especially because i've run into like,,,one or two plot holes but >.> we're just gonna uhhh ignore those lol.
> 
> plot chapters coming up!! and one w the infamous mr smith ooo boy 
> 
> i've got ~3.5 prewritten so we're gonna have actual consistent[ish] updates!! yahoo fun fun.  
> Thanks for reading, i appreciate all of u and ur kind, supportive comments <3 (i'll stop gushing about how sweet y'all are when y'all stop being sweet) (but pls don't stop tho i have low blood sugar)


	11. Milk Teeth and Broken Gear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry chapters have been so short lately, i've been trying to follow when/what feels right to cut them off.  
> they used to be like 7k and now they're like 3 rip in peace

Practicing with the ODM gear feels like a masochistic pleasure. 

 

That’s the only way you can really describe it. The strain on your entire body from the leather straps, your wind chapped lips, and the perpetual watering of your eyes all somehow added to the blissful peace you felt soaring through the air. You weren’t a beacon of grace when it came to your attacks like the other soldiers, all with their beautifully practiced movements and effortless finesse, but you try to mimic them as much as possible without slamming into trees. You’d like to say it’s been paying off, but today tests that. 

 

Jumping from tree to tree, the taut wires carry you through the dense forest quickly and efficiently, though not with smooth transitions. You had only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, but you’re reluctant to place the blame of your sluggish movements on a lack of shut eye. You’ve worked just fine on far less, and that's saying something. If it weren’t for the sound of the wind in your ears you’re sure you’d be hearing the Captain click his tongue.

 

Slicing the plush napes of the wooden titan dummies was getting easier, thankfully, but it wasn’t without an abundance of embarrassing mishaps chipping away at your pride. Tangling yourself in your ODM wires while trying to execute sharp maneuvers, leaving shallow slits left in foam napes, or, a far worse experience as you came to find out, nicking the wood where you were overzealous and cut too deep. It would not only damage your blades, but completely throw you off balance and cause a numbing pain to shoot up your arms. You’d gladly take shallow cuts while training. 

 

Eyes scanning through the brush for your next target, you spot it a little way up ahead and to the right. Mapping an effective path with quick but careful consideration, your feet just barely dance over the extended branches as you whiz towards the titan. Approaching with gaining momentum, you pull your arms back and drag your elongated razor blades through the plush pillow at the base of the wooden neck with a twist of your torso, watching as a dense semicircle pops out. One meter long and 10 centimeters deep; a perfect cut, you note with a small smile.

 

You lost count of your eliminations a while ago, so you don’t realize that was your last one until the man flying behind you lets out a sharp whistle. Knowing better by now than to turn around mid flight --no matter how many times the Captain did it-- you perch yourself on top of a branch, a pair of brown boots planting just a few inches above your head on the tree. You glare up at him as small pieces of bark rain down on your shoulders, but he returns it with an unimpressed look of his own. 

 

“You were sloppy today, brat,” he tells you, voice emotionless. You resignedly sigh. You didn’t want to know how long you would have lasted had those wooden props been actual animated flesh. A shiver crawls up your spine at the thought. “Give me two laps before we continue with drills. And make them quick,” he warns you. 

 

With a ‘yes sir’ you make quick work of leaping off of the branch and bringing yourself through the air, willing your muscles to work with you rather than against you. 

You know your inadequate training today isn’t due to a lack of trying; you were always diligent and serious when it came to training and despite your mouth you didn’t complain when there were extra sets of maneuver practice tacked on last minute or when you had you run double the drills by yourself. You gave it your all even when your thighs barely held you up and the blisters under your belts were a little more than a distracting ache.

 

It wasn’t because you sought praise, or even because you wanted to become a strong soldier. You respect your superiors and comrades for their strength and bravery, but you can’t lie and say you share their gallantry. You trained hard not because you wanted to face the titans and aid humanity, but because the skills you were building were what would keep you alive when the time came that you’d cross back over and face what lie beyond the walls. You wouldn’t focus on eliminating as many titans as you could like so many people liked to brag about, but instead focus solely on surviving. And based on today's efforts, things weren't looking very good.

 

On your descent from one tree to the next you click the triggers of your ODM gear to shoot the wires out, but they're delayed by a few seconds. Barely anchoring into the bark of a tree, your body weight shifts unevenly, causing you to fumble a bit. Righting yourself with a gasp, you go to pull yourself to a stop on a branch to examine the gear, but the wires completely stall on you, falling limp in the air and retracting back into their holsters. 

 

Eyes wide, you click them both a second and even third time in the hopes that they’d shoot back out, but neither respond. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you begin to fall through the air, the adrenaline coursing through you begging you to  _ do something right now! _

 

Your fingers frantically mash on the triggers, body leaning forward. Panic hits before you can come up with any way to help yourself. You spare a glance down and watch as the ground comes closer at an alarming rate, nothing but grass and hard dirt underneath. Eyes snapping shut you throw your hands out and brace for the crash, as if that were going to cushion you when your body collided with the earth.

 

A loud whimper escapes your lips when a dull impact hits your side, but it isn’t crushing like you had expected. You dare to squint an eye open and look around. The grass of the forest was just a blur and the loud wind licking at your stray hairs only hits one side of your face. The other is currently pressed up against a hard but warm stomach. The Captain’s eyes are trained in front of him and you briefly wonder how he's able to carry your weight and keep himself airborne. You gasp when he hoists you up higher with a jerk, the hand digging into your side moving to click the trigger of his ODM gear. The holster right under your neck shoots out an anchor as you come to a stop on a tree. 

 

 

Tossing you from his arms like a sack of potatoes as soon as his feet touch the branch, you don’t manage to brace yourself in time; palms skidding on the rough bark. He doesn’t wait for you to so much as right yourself before he hisses angrily, “What the fuck was that?” 

 

You glare at him over your shoulder and for the first time you understand why everyone walks around him on the tips of their boots. His brows are drawn low, open mouth displaying his teeth like a rabid animal. Nostrils flared, he takes two deep breaths before asking, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

 

“That wasn’t my fault!” you breathlessly bark back. He doesn’t look convinced. “My gear messed up.” You click the triggers a few times to illustrate your point, neither anchor responding.

 

The raven haired man pinches the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath. Coming behind you his hands tug harshly on your waist belt to get the gear off, knees lifting off the branch with how much force he was using. When it finally comes off he sits heavily and crosses his legs, uses the edge of his blade to twist the bolts holding the machine together. Popping off the top, it takes one look inside to stop his string of creative expletives. 

 

Sitting up on your knees, you lean over to get a look at the gear. You only get a glance before he's snatching the object away from your view. “What’s wrong with it?” you ask.

 

Placing the screws back into their holes, he begins tightening the top back on. “The wires weren’t oiled properly. Looks like they snapped," he tells you, handing you the broken gear. You tuck it under your arm, an eyebrow quirked slightly. “Check your equipment twice before using it from now on. You aren't to so much as step fucking foot outside of the shed before doing that.” 

 

You’re taken aback by his demand, blinking at him several times. When you don’t respond, he snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face. “Got it?”

 

“Yes, sir,” you get out, tone clipped. While he whistles for your horses. You watch him carefully, brows knit.

 

You had it drilled into your head how to properly care for the gear; how often to oil the wires, when to clean them, and what happened when you didn’t. You’d heard of the small gears getting stuck, gas not funneling correctly to the fans and wires being jammed, but never them outright  _ snapping _ before.

 

When the Captain grabs you by your waist and sets you down on the ground he’s eerily silent. No annoyed grumble about the inconvenience or accusation thrown that you needed to take care of your gear better. You make no move to be the first to speak, not even when he snatches the gear back from you as you approach the stables.

 

\--

 

Guiding your horse into her stall, you get to work on removing her tack as quickly as possible. She can sense your unease and neighs softly, pressing her head softly into your chest. 

 

"I'm fine, girl. No big deal," you whisper to her, petting her neck. Throwing down a fresh bail of hay, you quietly stalk over to the Captain's stall. Still folding your horse’s reins in your hands, you knock on the wooden entrance to get his attention. He barely gives you a glance over his shoulder before turning back around and continuing to brush his horse. 

 

“I oiled that gear yesterday,” you start slowly. He ignores you, shoulders squared and movements rigid as he focuses on removing the dirt from the black coat of his mare. You twist your lips and huff a small sigh. “Even if it were an oil issue, my wires wouldn’t just--”

 

He spins around to face you, brows drawn low. You snap your jaw shut.

 

“Are you suggesting that you know more about ODM gear than me,  _ Cadet?”  _ he bites, pressing emphasis on your title. Taking a slow, threatening step towards you he lifts his chin to stare down the length of his nose at you. “I shouldn’t need to remind you that you're speaking to your superior officer. I don’t want any excuses for that shit performance out there today.”

 

You know there isn't any real malice behind his words--you've been on the receiving end of far too many of his glares to know this one wasn't out of honest agitation. He turns back to his horse and, despite knowing he doesn’t want you to, you continue. 

 

“I'm not challenging your knowledge, and this isn’t an excuse,” you tell him. You pause and soften your voice a touch, trying to gauge his reaction. “I saw the wires, sir.”

 

There’s a pregnant, drawn out silence. Not even the horses dare to make too sharp a breath.

 

Finally, he turns around. “Finish up here and run laps before Miche comes.”

 

You stare at him indignantly as he walks past you. "I  _ saw  _ those wires,” you repeat, voice rising steadily. You take several steps towards him, intent on following him until he gave a real explanation as to why he was ignoring this. “I could have been seriously hurt. Of all the shit kept from me, you’d really go as far as denying that my wires were--"

 

"Finish speaking and I won’t bother getting you a replacement for your gear,” he says, whipping around to shoot you a hard glare. This time it is very real and _very_ threatening. He takes a step towards you, voice even and low. “Raise your voice at me ever again and I’ll personally rip your rotten tongue from your mouth.”

 

Eyes wide, you take a step back from him. The tips of your fingers felt cold, tingling slightly as if they’d fallen asleep. Clenching and unclenching them around the reins you still held, you resist the urge to bring a hand to your suddenly throbbing head. 

 

_I_ _f you won't tell us then you'll have no use for a tongue_ _._

 

_He'll bleed out before we can even get him on the boat. Just finish it already, he sounds like a dying pig._

_ “Are you listening to me?”  _

 

Blinking, you straighten your back, pulling your feet together. “I apologize for my insubordination, sir. It won’t happen again.”

 

The Captain’s thin brows knit together in a frown. His focus moves from your white knuckle grip on the straps in your hand to your glassy  _ e/c _ eyes looking past his shoulder. 

 

“Finish up here and return the rest of your gear to storage. Get started on those laps at once,” he says slowly. Pulling a salute, you turn smartly on your heel and go to return your equipment to the tack shed.

 

The Captain watches you walk away before turning himself, the same confused look on his face. 

  
  


He’d never seen that kind of salute before. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update 12/18/19
> 
> hello anyone who has gotten to this last chapter! lemme start out and say holy FUCK i'm SO sorry that you had to read those earlier chapters, they're rough as shit and you're a tank for getting through them. i'm currently rewriting ID (as the summary states) but it's more like giving it intense corrective surgery. they're also so bad that i cringe really hard and need to take several days to recoup, so. it's gonna be a hot mf minute!! I don't know what kind of juice i was drinking to make me spit out 40k words of essentially NOTHING but i'm working on fixing that. i'm not giving up on the /idea/ of this story (because i really like it) i'm just cleaning it up and making it more coherent. 
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading! sorry to those of you who really liked the story! u guys deserve better


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